


Under Duress

by ClarissaNotFound, Mercury_Rising



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Criminal Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Eventual Levi/Erwin Smith, F/M, Gang Violence, Kenny Ackerman Being an Asshole, M/M, Modern Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, Non-Graphic Violence, Organized Crime, Police Officer Erwin Smith, Slow Burn, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2021-01-14
Packaged: 2021-01-21 07:56:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 53
Words: 173,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21296120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClarissaNotFound/pseuds/ClarissaNotFound, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mercury_Rising/pseuds/Mercury_Rising
Summary: Levi has been arrested. The officer questioning him? Erwin Smith. Will Levi crack under the pressure, and just what is it that Erwin is really after?
Relationships: Levi/Erwin Smith
Comments: 301
Kudos: 347





	1. Interrogation (21st August 2019)

Erwin closed the blinds of his office and looked at himself in the mirror. His reflection stared back at him, those bright blue eyes sharp and hard, and he took one long, deep breath. He felt as if he were standing on the side of a mountain, looking down with satisfaction at every step he had taken to make it this far, about to set his feet on another precarious path upwards; towards trapping the man responsible for his father’s murder.

He adjusted his tie with precision, making it just a little skewed. Then he reached up and made the parting of his hair look windswept, as if he had only just come in from a walk and not bothered to fix it. He left his uniform jacket hanging on the back of his chair and grabbed a mug with a crack in it, that he used to make himself a coffee, filling it just a little too full. Each component was small, but added to an overall effect.

He made his way down the corridor, towards the interview rooms, and stopped at the third one. _Levi Ackerman_. He pushed the door, walked in without looking directly at the man, and placed his mug clumsily down on the table so that drips dribbled over the rim and pooled on the metal surface. When he sat he scraped the legs of the chair across the floor, taking some time to adjust himself in the seat as if it was uncomfortable. Then he sat back, files on the table, and sighed heavily.

It was a long time since Levi had been arrested. Usually he was questioned immediately. If not, he was put in a cell until they deigned to summon him. But this time he had sat in the interview room for hours, waiting and waiting for an interviewer who never came.

He had been told it was manslaughter and murder. He _hadn’t_ been told why they arrested him of all people. The killer was probably one of Kenny's goons. The victims were probably his people too.

When the door finally opened, he prepared a look of disdain. It was wasted effort. The look came naturally when he saw the scruffy detective who came in. Was he left waiting because this slob overslept?

Erwin met the gaze of the man across the table. He was dark eyed, much shorter than Erwin himself, and built like a lean fighter. After a moment he looked away and down at his coffee, which he stirred lazily, letting more drip down the side. Levi’s wide eyes flinched at the slam of the mug, then tracked down, following the drips pooling on the table. 

“Interview begins at 12.05pm,” Erwin said, and continued without a pause. “Please state your name for the record.”

The suspect fixed his questioner with a heavy-lidded stare and a monotone. “Levi Ackerman.”

“Let's get right to it then. Tell me why you did it, Ackerman.”

"Did what."

“Why you killed those women,” he said. “We know what happened. You may as well confess.”

"I haven't killed anyone," came the answer. Levi squinted at the mug instead of facing the officer, not able to look away. He wondered how the idiot failed to notice what a state he was creating.

“Then what happened?” Erwin asked, splashing more and more coffee each time he stirred it, satisfied that Levi was staring in disgust. “They just walked in and shot themselves, in your home?”

Levi looked up at the officer, hiding his concern and staying silent. He tried to overlook the scruffy hair and resist the urge to straighten his tie.

“I suggest you start talking, Ackerman. Tell me where you were at 3am on the morning of the 19th?”

"In bed," Levi lied sullenly. "Like people usually are at 3am."

“Easy to say,” said Erwin, shrugging, taking a loud sip from his mug. Levi grimaced and looked away, not wanting to see the coffee drip on him. “What about an alibi? Anyone with you? Apart from the two dead women of course.” He gave a low chuckle and added in a casual, almost conversational tone. “You’re used to that sort of thing of course, given what happened to your mother.”

The suspect’s attention snapped back instantly. He threw the detective a dangerous glare. The nerve of this son of a bitch, bringing up shit from thirty years ago.

"I was _alone_," he answered, his tone sharp.

“Come on, you expect me to believe that?” Erwin replied in a smug voice, ignoring the angry look in Levi’s eyes. “They were found at the home we know is yours, and you know...nothing?” As he spoke he leaned forward, clumsily flicking through the files until he found what he was looking for. 

Levi coldly watched as those coffee-stained fingers sifted through his paperwork, leaving tan fingerprints on every corner. Eventually the detective turned it towards him, displaying mugshots of two women.

“I suppose you’ll say you don’t recognise them?” Erwin pressed. Levi shook his head, so Erwin turned the page to show Levi the pictures of their bodies. “What a shame they had to end this way.”

Unpleasant as the crime scene photos were, Levi couldn't look away. He fought to keep his expression blank.

"My home? 31 Winterford Avenue?" He raised an eyebrow, knowing it wouldn't be.

“No,” Erwin replied, tapping his fingers on the table in an odd rhythm he hoped would be annoying. “Don’t act stupid, Ackerman. These women were found dead at 17 Denham Close - a house that your fingerprints are all over.”

“I stay there sometimes,” he said. “But not that day.” His thoughts were rushing at light speed, but the interrogator kept the pressure on.

“You claim instead that-,” Erwin said slowly, going back to flicking through the files with his coffee-stained fingers, licking them each time he turned a page over. “-You were at 31 Winterford Avenue all night, sleeping soundly?” 

Levi would do practically anything to get out of this interview. He silently glared at the crown of the detective’s blond head as if he could stop him slobbering over the pages through sheer willpower.

“Was anyone with you, or did anyone see you at any time that night, or maybe you talked on the phone?” the detective continued.

“I was out on Sunday. City centre. I went back to Winterford at... maybe six. Alone.” Levi could show receipts to prove where he had been on Sunday afternoon, but it didn’t do much to help his case.

“Hmm,” Erwin hummed in a long drawn-out noise, his eyes on the files but subtly keeping an eye on Levi’s reactions. He took another long, slurp of coffee and then looked up properly once more, straight in the eyes. “You didn’t see anyone, talk to anyone, interact with anyone at all?” 

“No. I didn’t.” 

Erwin looked up at him properly again and closed the file with a heavy hand, swiftly changing the subject. “Tell me about your Uncle. Are you the only people who use the house?” 

“We’re the only ones who live there.” Levi kept his answer as brief as possible.

“You must be close to him. He raised you, and you work in his warehouse, correct?” 

Erwin was pleased to see the way Levi’s expression changed when they moved onto this subject. He looked tense and uncomfortable, which was the aim. “Yes,” he said shortly. “We get on fine. If you want to know about him, ask him.” It was going to be hard to say anything good about Kenny, but it would be even more suspicious to portray him in a bad light and give the police more ammunition.

“We are,” Erwin said. “But I’m interested in what you, his closest relative, thinks of him.”

Levi scoffed, looking away as if he was bored. The detective prodded further.

“Good man is he? Very kind of him to take you in after your mother died, to raise you. Doesn’t sound like the kind of man who would murder two women for fun.”

Levi stopped just short of rolling his eyes. If this man really thought Kenny was some kind of celibate pacifist, then he wasn’t much of an interrogator.

“Suppose so,” he said, unconvincingly. He didn’t consider himself ‘raised’ by his uncle, and nor did he want to. For good measure, he looked the detective in the eye. “He’s not the type to hurt anyone.”

Luckily, Erwin had good control over his expressions so he was able to retain a neutral expression when his thoughts turned to his father. He quickly brushed them aside.

“You don’t sound very sure,” he said. “What’s he like when he’s angry? He runs his own business, that must be very...stressful.”

As he spoke he deliberately and without any subtlety as to his intent knocked his mug, spilling a whole lot of the liquid over the side. Instinctively Levi skidded his chair back a few inches, then fixed the cop with a wary look in his eyes. All this mess couldn’t be an accident. The loud coffee gulps and the smudges on pristine pages. A random cop couldn’t possibly know that Levi hated this sort of thing. Kenny _lived_ with him and apparently hadn’t noticed, since he left his trash everywhere and cigarette butts on every counter.

“Clumsy me. Hope that doesn’t bother you. Ahem, as I was saying - tell me what your uncle is like when he’s angry?”

Trying to gloss over his obvious reaction, Levi answered the question, ridiculous as it was. “He isn’t a stressed person. He’s always busy, always has company. Thrives on it.”

Inwardly, Erwin felt gleeful at the reaction from Levi. He could tell he was getting to him. 

“You mean to tell me you never argued? He’s never raised his voice, never got annoyed about something? That sounds unlikely. What about you - ever get angry at him?”

If Levi stood a chance of throttling a detective in a police station and getting away with it, he would have tried it now. Instead he measured his response, choosing a balance between too incriminating and suspiciously innocent.

“Normal arguments, yeah. He’s no dream to work with.” He thought of Kenny’s annoying habits, the mess and the snide remarks, and scoffed to himself. From what he’d witnessed here, this cop and his uncle could be best friends.

“Normal arguments, Ackerman?” said Erwin. “And what would you call _normal_?” He leaned back in his chair, leaving the coffee where it had spilled on the table. 

“Work shit. Waking me up early. Not shutting up. Normal arguments.” Levi rolled his eyes as if that answer was obvious.

“Levi - can I call you Levi? - does he ever argue with his wife, girlfriend, significant other..?”

The suspect patiently ignored the request to use his name. He got the impression that this cop would do what he wanted regardless of the answer. “No partner.” It was impossible to imagine anyone who would stick with Kenny. Monogamy wasn’t in his playbook and ‘settling down’ wasn’t on the to do list.

“Oh? When was the last time he had a girlfriend?” Erwin asked in a mild way, eyebrows raising as if in surprise.

“I’ve never met any girlfriends,” Levi said. “We don’t hang out outside of work.” The detective was obviously fishing for details. Maybe even leads. Levi hoped they hadn’t found anything, otherwise he was fucked.

“This man who raised you from a child, and you’ve never met any of his girlfriends?” Erwin laughed in a derisory tone. “Don’t take me for a fool, Levi. You are, what - 40 years old? Am I supposed to believe in all that time he’s never brought a woman home?”

“Like. I. Said.” Levi’s impatience dripped from every syllable. “We don’t hang outside of work. We’re family, not friends.” 

Erwin shook his head and tutted, as if he were a disappointed parent facing down his son.

"That seems unlikely. Surely you would know if he had a girlfriend... you share a house." He said it in a slow voice, smiling as if he was picturing an innocuous family life rather than drugs hidden all over the place.

It was frustrating for Levi that he couldn’t outright state the truth; that he and Kenny rarely ever spent a night in the same building. That was hard to explain. They were an unorthodox family.

“We like our space. I never met any girlfriend,” he answered icily.

“It almost sounds like you and he don’t get along,” Erwin asked, feeling very pleased with how this was going. “Tell me about that?” 

Levi hated the tricks and turns being thrown at him, and didn’t trust this detective one bit after all the games he’d played.

“I don’t dislike him,” he said defensively. “I just like space.” And peace, and quiet, and tidiness; all things which did not coexist with Kenny.

“Hm...,” Erwin said, giving him an obvious look of doubt, but he was pleased to see that the puddle of cold coffee on the table was still drawing his suspect’s attention. 

“Is that bothering you, Levi? Don’t worry, I’ll have them clean it up. Eventually. For now..” Erwin pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, and Levi reached out instantly, making a small, urgent ‘ah!-’ noise in the split second before the cloth met the table. It was too late. The immaculate cloth was already stained, coffee seeping through the white linen as Erwin used it to mop at the liquid, not very elegantly, mostly just spreading the liquid out more.

Levi fixed the detective with a frosty stare. “Clumsy, aren’t you.” His voice had a mocking edge to it. This man was infuriating.

“Sometimes,” said Erwin with a chuckle. “Alright then, we’ll call it there. It was nice to talk to you, Levi. Interview terminated at 12:25pm.” He turned off the tape, gathered the files and walked out, leaving the handkerchief and coffee on the table.


	2. Allegation (21st August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny's alibi is verified, so Erwin returns to the interview with a brand new tactic.

Before Erwin returned to the interview room, he caught up on the state of the investigation from Mike. His deputy spoke plainly, with few words, and what he said concerned Erwin. Following the interview with Levi he had been feeling optimistic, but things were changing and new evidence was coming to light. Still, it didn’t take Erwin long to decide what to do next.

He fixed his hair and straightened his tie, put his jacket back on, and returned to the interview room where Levi was still waiting.

Levi’s disappointment at seeing the same detective walk back in the door was obvious. The coffee stains and disgusting handkerchief might have been cleaned up, but Levi didn’t need to see another crime scene like that.

The detective clicked the tape recorder without so much as a greeting. “Interview resumed at 1:42pm.” 

He paused, then sighed wearily. “Alright, Ackerman,” he said seriously, leaning towards him, elbows on the table top. Levi noticed that he appeared more awake and alert, even somewhere close to presentable. “Do you know just how serious this is for you? This isn’t like your previous charges. This is murder. And you are our primary suspect.” Erwin laid it out as if it were obvious and simple. It was time to put the pressure on.

The stern tone wasn’t lost on his suspect. Those blue eyes were staring hard at him, but Levi’s gaze caught on the flash of gold adorning his epaulettes. Alongside the standard symbols, there was a small crown. He didn’t know what the title was, but this guy had to be up there. He outranked anyone who had interrogated Levi before, anyway.

“Obviously it’s serious,” he tutted, making eye contact once more. “Unfortunately for you, I haven’t done anything.”

“And obviously,” Erwin replied. “We don’t believe you. In the time since we last spoke, we have verified your uncle’s alibi.” He took a pause to let that sink in, holding back for now on the biggest piece of evidence so far.

Levi knew the shock registered on his face, but he couldn’t suppress it. Kenny had an alibi, and he didn’t. He silently ran through his options. His house was the scene of a double murder. How was he supposed to explain this away?

“I’m no killer.” His tone grew sharp. It was the truth, as little as that seemed to matter within these walls.

“The evidence suggests otherwise,” Erwin replied. “What do you know about this gun?” He opened the file and showed Levi a picture of a small handgun, the kind that could be easily concealed. 

Levi looked from the photograph to its holder and back again. The gun was familiar. Kenny and several of his associates carried ones just like it, but it was a fairly standard model. Eventually he shrugged, nothing to offer. 

Erwin pulled a victorious expression. “This was found in the bins outside the house at which you were arrested.”

That was enough to make Levi blanch. Whatever gun it was, it definitely had no business being anywhere near Levi’s house. _If_ that was where it had been found.

“I don’t own a gun, and if I did, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to put it in my own fucking bin.” It probably wasn’t wise to argue so viciously with your arresting officer, but Levi was beyond sick of this cop, and not inclined to trust his words at all. There had been mind games from the start; this might be more of the same. He just wanted to get out, back to his own quiet, clean room, free from dead hookers and coffee stains and detectives with shitty attitudes.

“People slip up,” said Erwin reasonably. “People do stupid things when they are desperate.” Levi scoffed, rolling his eyes, so the detective pressed on.

“Let me tell you how I think this went down, Ackerman...” He met Levi’s gaze. “I think you thought you’d have a little fun that night, hire a couple of women, have a party. Then it went wrong, got a little out of hand, and before you know it, they're both dead - shot.” He deliberately got the detail wrong, to see if Levi would say anything about it, but the suspect just stared back, aghast. Levi felt as if he was being mistaken for some kind of degenerate. Some kind of Kenny. The thought made his skin crawl. The story might even be accurate as to how it went down, except for the fact that Levi hadn’t been there. He was lost for words.

“So you panicked,” Erwin continued. “You ran, you ditched the gun. Stupid, but perhaps you are just stupid. Not everyone can be a criminal mastermind--”

Levi put his palm flat on the table, just short of slamming it.

“Listen, motherfucker,” he began in a low dangerous tone, leaning in. “I don’t deal with hookers and I don’t get off on murder.” It would take a real psychopath to kill two people and risk a life sentence for the sake of one sordid night. Unfortunately, Levi couldn’t prove that he wasn’t a real psychopath.

Erwin smiled. It was a smug, knowing, superior expression that he’d learnt from other cops who liked to lord it over their prisoners. Now was an excellent time to put it to good use.

“Evidence and reason say you did.”

He noted that Levi had not corrected him on the manner of their deaths, instead meeting the smile with a scowl. “Stop talking shit. I’ve never killed a person, and I’m not about to start.”

Levi knew there was no reason the cop should take him at his word. If anything was going to exonerate him, it would have to be real, genuine evidence. Whoever was guilty must have left something. He had to rely on that. “Run your tests. I didn’t meet those women, let alone fuck them.”

“We have run some tests already,” Erwin told him. “No one had sex with those women that night. As you know, they died before anything could happen.” 

“As I _know_?” Levi’s eyes flashed with anger. His case was looking worse and worse. A lack of clear cut DNA evidence against anyone else left him looking extremely suspicious.

Erwin sighed, as if he was losing patience. “Look Ackerman, stop this pointless denial. You are going down for this. You know the sentence for murder is life. Everyone else who had access to the house has an alibi, and the murder weapon was found outside your house. If you were in my position, what would you think, hm?”

Levi didn’t know how to answer that. His thoughts were manic but he reminded himself that this might not even be true. Perhaps this officer just wanted to turn Levi and Kenny against each other. There was every chance that his uncle was the guilty party, but he had no way to know for sure.

“I’m not the cop, _pig_, so do your own job. If you do, you’ll prove it wasn’t me.” He searched the officer’s eyes for any sign that he believed him, but he could read nothing.

Erwin knew that many fellow officers, even at his level, would have angered at that kind of response. He understood though. In fact he felt quite bad for Levi in many ways, if what he suspected was true. 

“That’s what they all say,” he said simply. “Words to that effect.” 

It was tempting to pull his own hair in sheer frustration, but Levi stayed still and silent, fingers steepled over his lips.

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking you are any different than any other guilty person who crosses my path, Ackerman,” Erwin said after a lengthy pause. “You will go down for this, unless there is something you have to offer me, something that can lead me to who you say is the real killer..” Everything depended upon the suspect’s next words and he waited, tense with anticipation.

Levi racked his brain. Was there anything he could think of that could lead to the real killer? Nothing that the police wouldn’t have tried. Kenny’s real phone would be nowhere near the station, and whatever they had confiscated would come up clean. Any drugs found in the houses would be as traceable to Levi as they were to his uncle.

There was a solid chance that Kenny was guilty, but did Levi want to admit that possibility out loud? He couldn’t risk telling the police everything and get them both sent down. Between the deaths, the drugs and their history, there was enough to get them both locked up for a long time.

His eyes stayed on the detective’s, silently beseeching, but Erwin just continued to watch him in stony silence. Levi wished he knew the truth, but the cop was a closed book.

“I don’t know who the killer is,” he said finally, hoping he wouldn’t come to regret those words.

Erwin’s heart sank a little, his hope momentarily dashed, though he kept his expression straight and stoic. He _could _ still turn this around, but Levi wasn’t exactly making it easy on him.

“You’ve been to prison before,” he said, not asking, but stating as a fact; they both knew it was true. But there was a big difference between his previous convictions and a life sentence. The cop’s warning wasn’t wasted on him. Levi desperately did not want to spend decades in a cell.

“I can’t imagine you liked it there. Not a moment of peace or quiet. People everywhere, no freedom, no tea. It would seem to be that prison takes away from you many of the things I know you value.”

“Then stop wasting time with me.” He fixed the detective with an intense, meaningful stare from across the desk, imploring him to see sense. “Find the person who should go there.”

Erwin looked back at Levi. He could see the desperation in his expression but he could offer no words to comfort him, not right now. He needed him to sit and stew on the potential fate before him, of life imprisonment for double homicide. 

“Rest assured, I know the truth,” Erwin said at last, and put his hand on the recorder. “Think about what I’ve said, Ackerman. Interview terminated at 2.03pm.” He switched off the recorder and stepped out of the room without a backwards glance.

After leaving the suspect, he went to sit in his office, door closing behind him with a mighty creaking sound. After only a few minutes his phone rang.

“Chief,” said Mike, a weary note to his voice. “The ballistics just came back, and the bullet matches the gun found outside the nephew’s home. We’re still searching the place but it’s not looking good.”

This was damning evidence. Erwin held the phone to his ear, tilting back on his chair, staring at the ceiling of his office. If he didn’t make a move, a strong one, then this chance was going to slip away. Possibly for good.

“Chief? You there?”

“Mike.” Erwin’s voice spoke almost before his mind caught up. “I’m coming to the evidence room. And I’ll need you to look the other way.”

There was a pause before Mike replied.

“Alright Chief. Come by whenever.”

“See you soon,” Erwin said with the slightest smile on his lips and placed down the phone onto its recieved with a soft click. Two things he appreciated about Mike; he was accommodating, and he understood Erwin without the need for a lot of words. It was very efficient.

After making a few notes on the files, he left his office once again, and by the time he returned to Levi Ackerman’s interview room, he had a small tape concealed in his coat pocket and a brimming teacup in his hand. 

The suspect pointedly looked away, expecting more of the same. Another session of bad cop. It was getting tiresome. There was nothing to add. He had told them the truth, even if it didn’t stand up to evidence. 

The scrape of the teacup caught his attention and he froze in place when he saw the cop sliding it his way, like a peace-offering. There was something very unnerving about someone who appeared to know him inside out, when Levi didn’t even know his name.

“You need to listen very carefully,” Erwin said softly and took the tape out of his pocket, placing it into the machine. 

Levi’s heart was pounding as he heard Kenny’s voice, crackling over the tape. There was no faking it, no doubt it was the man himself.

“Look lady, it’s like I told you - me and Duran, Levi and the two girls, we were at home, okay? Havin’ a few drinks and that. But Duran, he’s got a 60” flatscreen, so we fucked off there to watch the game highlights. Levi and the girls, they stayed behind, so I don’t know what the hell happened next. You’d have to ask him. Last I saw them, they were still kickin’. Guess I should’ve known better than to leave them with him, eh.”

“Should have known better? What makes you say that, Ackerman?” A female officer’s voice picked up where Kenny trailed off, one that only Erwin recognised as Petra. Levi was waiting on tenterhooks for Kenny’s answer.

“Well, the brat has a temper, you know? Got in trouble for beatin’ some poor sap senseless - did time and everything. Look that up, you’ll see. Yeah, he’s my nephew and all, but I just should’ve known..”

Levi stared at the detective, his vision blurring as his heart rate soared. Kenny was playing it as if he was reluctantly surrendering his guilty nephew. For someone without a conscience, he wasn’t half bad at feigning one. Levi’s fist clenched under the table. As if _he_ was the one who already had blood on his hands. As if _he_ was the one who consorted with prostitutes.

“Son of a _bitch_,” he whispered. His head was spinning. He stared blankly at the wall. With a murder weapon planted at one house, two bodies at the other and no alibi, he could see no way out.

“Do you understand?” Erwin asked once it was over.

Levi looked back at him, only now taking in the change in his demeanour. There was no smugness or threat in his tone anymore.

“He’s lying,” Levi said softly, with some trepidation. It sounded laughable, to deny something so watertight. He could hear his own heartbeat, blood pounding in his ears. The detective was looking at him expectantly. Finally he took the plunge. “It was probably him.”

“It _was_ him,” Erwin replied instantly, earnestly. “I know it was. I’m taking a big risk talking to you in this way, off the record, and playing you this tape. I should not be doing this. But I don’t believe for a moment that you murdered those women. Your uncle is trying to frame you and frankly he is doing a very good job of it. And if anyone but me was heading this investigation you would have already been charged.” 

This was too much for Levi to take in. The whole day had been overwhelming horror, and deep down he was still frightened. Kenny had never been a good ally, but he had been the only option. Now Levi started to consider whether the cop could be trusted. It would have been unthinkable this morning, but logic wasn’t getting him very far in this interrogation.

“Let me speak plainly, Levi,” Erwin continued. “I need you to formally accuse your uncle of murdering those women, and of trying to frame you. Once you do that, I can help you. Of course you could also declare what I’ve done the moment I start recording again. The choice is yours.”

There was too much that Levi didn’t know, so instinct would have to guide him. He knew that revealing his knowledge of the tape felt like a big mistake. It might get the annoying detective fired. And what satisfaction would that be? Levi would still go down for murder.

He took a deep breath, pledging to speak as openly as his interrogator. “I don’t know what happened with these women. But he’s... killed. Before this.”

It took all Erwin had not to release the sigh of relief that was threatening to escape his lungs. Levi’s words where all he needed to hear, to know that he would agree to help.

“Good,” he replied. “And I believe you, Levi. I have been tracking your Uncle for a long time, trying to find something to pin on him. I have nothing to lose now by telling you this. I do not want him to slip through the cracks again.” 

It was hard not to feel a dizzying relief just to be believed by someone. There was still the slightest chance that the cop was playing nice just to get at Kenny, but frankly, Levi would make that bargain.

He nodded solemnly, looking more tired than ever, and then jerked his head towards the recorder like a silent oath. Taking his instruction, Erwin slipped the confession tape back into his pocket, then flicked the switch. The familiar whirr of the tape started again.

“Interview resumed at 2.46pm. Ackerman, this is your last chance to talk. The ballistic tests show the bullet that killed Ms Johnson was fired by the gun found outside of the house where you were arrested. What do you have to say to that?”

Levi steeled himself, thinking carefully over his choice of words. “Someone must have planted the gun there,” he answered, expressing his honest deductions. “Because I have never met Ms Johnson and I wouldn’t have put the gun outside my own house.”

The cop was looking at him meaningfully, and he sighed before continuing. “My uncle is staying at the flat on Denham Close. And he knows I was at the flat on Winterford Avenue. I think he killed them and set me up.”

“You realise this is a very serious allegation,” Erwin said, but there was a smile on his lips. “You are saying Kenny Ackerman killed these women, not you, and you accuse him of planting the gun to frame you.” He nodded encouragingly at Levi. “Do you have any proof that he knew you were at that house, that the gun belongs to him, or that he has met these women?”

“Yes. I am saying that.” These questions were the first glimmer of hope he had all day. “I can prove that he knew I was at that house. And…” He bit his lip, thinking. “I don’t know the victims. Some of his colleagues might recognise them.” He knew his own fingerprints wouldn’t be on the gun, but he didn’t know how to prove that it was Kenny’s. He didn’t exactly have any photographs of his uncle toting it in public.

“I’ve never shot someone,” he said. “And I haven’t set foot in Denham Close since… about the week before last. My uncle is living there. It must have been him.”

“I see,” Erwin replied, pulling the file close and writing a few notes so that the tape would catch the sound of the pen. “Can you give us any names? Anyone we could talk to that could confirm Kenny Ackerman knew the women in advance of the 19th?” He was encouraged, almost excited, by the way this was going but he kept his voice serious, playing the part.

If Kenny knew the women, his associates would know them too. “Yeah. Traute Caven. Dimo Reeves. Duran Malet. Djel Sannes. Good luck getting them to talk, though.” It was obvious that money or punches would have been exchanged by now, enough to purchase the unprincipled and silence the unwilling.

None of those names were unfamiliar. They were all higher-ups, and Erwin could see why Levi expected them to be loyal. With one exception; Dimo Reeves was long dead, apparently unbeknownst to the suspect. Erwin decided not to let him in on the secret for now, but having these names connected to this case could only be a good thing.

“I have to inform you that should we decide to take your allegations seriously then we will place you in a safehouse for as long as is deemed necessary.”

Finally Levi gave up resisting and curled his fingers around the cup of tea the cop had delivered. If this was a trick, it was a very good one. “I’ve got nowhere to go except where you send me,” he said with a shrug.

“Good,” Erwin said. “Your cooperation and willingness to help goes a long way in your favor, Ackerman, and I’m willing to entertain the idea that you are being set up. We will need to continue our investigations; you are still under serious suspicion, as is Kenny Ackerman, but since you have now both accused each other of being the real murderer...” He let the words hang in the air unsaid.

“Then what? You’ll arrange a safehouse?” After a whole day of interrogation - messy and unnerving interrogation at that - Levi just wanted to get to a place of peace and quiet, not a cell. “Because I’ll go with you.”

“Yes,” Erwin confirmed, his mind already three steps ahead, planning what would happen next. He had to ensure Levi’s safety and also the privacy of his own plans in this investigation. "A temporary safehouse."

Levi, for his part, wouldn’t say the idea made him happy. That was impossible when two women were lying in the morgue before their time, and the charges were far from dismissed. But for now, just the idea of staying somewhere far from Kenny and his lackeys was appealing. No late night unexpected visits. No demanding phone calls.

Deep down, he knew it was possible that his uncle would try something. Levi intended to be armed to the teeth if Kenny showed.


	3. Safehouse (21st August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin takes Levi to his apartment and the two men start to get to know one another.

Levi had no idea what a safehouse looked like. For whatever reason he pictured a shitty abandoned bedsit with a moth-eaten sofabed in arm’s reach of a metal sink. So he was relieved as they set foot in an ordinary looking hallway. It surpassed his expectations from the corridor alone.

“I hope you like it here,” the detective said, turning the key in the lock.

“Hey, wait.” It escaped before Levi could stop it. He grabbed at the cop’s sleeve. He didn’t have so much as a knife. He may as well have gone home to face Kenny, then at least he would be prepared. Maybe the police wanted him unarmed, but he would find something sharp or heavy if his hand was forced.

“Am I staying here alone? Don’t send some detective in here to babysit me.” His tone and expression were both stormy. He’d done enough talking for one day, and was in no mood to make any more acquaintances.

Erwin looked round at Levi with his usual unflustered expression, chuckling softly.

“Ah, my apologies Levi,” he said. “I will be staying here with you, as it is my own apartment. Please, make yourself at home.” 

“_Your_ apartment?” Pieces were clicking together in Levi’s mind. Cops didn’t do things like this. He had already admitted that playing Kenny’s tape was against the rules too. Levi was getting the impression that this cop had more of a vendetta against his uncle than he did. Since he was the one being framed for murder, that was no small feat.

Erwin nodded and pushed open the door, walking into the hallway. It was decorated simply with minimal personal items. He gestured through to a comfortable little living room with a dusty flat screen, a soft dusky blue sofa and a few photographs on the walls. Off from the living room could be seen a lived-in kitchen, a cluttered home office, an untidy sock-infested bedroom and an exercise room. Despite the layer of mess, it was nicely put together, befitting the salary of a Chief of Police. He did wish he’d had time to clear up the empty takeaway boxes and taken out the trash, but it was too late now.

He watched as Levi tentatively explored, like a cat in new territory. He subtly followed him into the living room, allowing him some freedom to roam. There was plenty of time for him to do some stashing away of sensitive files once they had settled in.

“I’m supposed to stay in your apartment?” Levi moved as he spoke, examining. The place wasn’t exactly up to standard, but it was nowhere near as bad as one of Kenny’s dens. He tilted his head to read the names of the books on the bookshelves, interspersed with a few DVDs. They had been organised by a neanderthal, using no filing system known to humanity. The whole apartment looked like one that got little attention.

“Yes,” Erwin said simply, a soft little smile on his face. “Will that be a problem?” No matter how bad a criminal was, generally they thought twice about actually targeting police officers, assuming they would even find out about his place.

Levi turned to look back at him. There were a thousand objections. He was a criminal, he was a danger, he was probably being hunted, he had no clothes or items with him, he was _sure_ this was against the rules, he could get the cop fired, he had no weapons, he wasn’t a fun roommate… Instead he settled on the obvious. “I don’t even know your name.”

The blond realised immediately that he was right, and laughed gently.

“Erwin,” he answered. “That a first name or a surname?” his new guest asked, failing to make eye-contact as he prodded the dusty TV screen. He planned to take care of this if he was left to his own devices. He hoped he would be. He might be very recently unemployed, but Erwin still had a job. 

“First name,” Erwin clarified as he stepped into the kitchen to make some tea, thankful to find milk in the fridge that he hadn’t even opened yet. He wasn’t the most attentive to his daily needs and often found he had let milk go bad or bread go stale. He would have to be much more careful about that now he had Levi staying with him. 

“You must need some tea, and then we can talk. I’m sure you have a lot of questions to ask me now.” He decided it was only fair, since he had spent the day interrogating Levi, and he owed him a few explanations if he wanted his ongoing cooperation.

Levi watched Erwin from a distance and decided not to set foot in the kitchen. Kitchens were hives for germs, and if he saw anything too disgusting, he might not be able to drink the tea that he wanted so badly. For now, ignorance was bliss.

The questions couldn’t wait either. “You’re in charge at the station. Aren’t you?” He recalled the crowns on Erwin’s jacket.

“Yes - I’m Chief Superintendent. I hope it doesn’t bother you to be staying with someone of my rank. I realise you’re used to being on the other side of the law.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. The man’s rank didn’t matter shit, but his treatment in the interrogation room had somewhat soured relations. “Think you can manage that without spilling everything?” he asked, a savage edge to his voice. But he couldn’t help noticing that Erwin seemed more relaxed here, different than the stoic chief he had been at the station. 

He brought through the tea for Levi without losing a single drop, placing it down on the little dining table. 

Erwin was unable to help a chuckle. “Very funny,” he said. The laughter sounded out of place to Levi. “My act earlier was calculated, I’m afraid. I hope you can forgive me.”

The chief at home was a completely different person than the chief at the station, Levi decided. Then again, after their first meeting, he would have predicted that Erwin lived in a pig-sty, so he should probably be grateful.

He sullenly withheld his forgiveness. “How did you know what would bother me?”

Erwin paused, wondering just how honest to be. His instincts said Levi was trustworthy so he decided to share.

"I have a private investigator," he said. "He has been feeding me information about you, Kenny, some of the other members of his gang that I know about. Building up a profile. So I know snippets of information - things I used to my advantage in your interrogation."

Levi wasn’t exactly pleased to hear it, but it explained a lot. He was only surprised the PI hadn't been caught. They must be keeping a safe distance, because Kenny was pretty good at rooting out conspirators. "I thought you people had quit trailing Kenny. He gets away with everything."

"The official police force haven't been trailing Kenny for some years now," Erwin said, his mouth set into a hard line. "Resources aren't infinite and I have to act responsibly. So I decided to pay for my own investigator, as a private citizen." 

As he thought that over, Levi took the tea from the table, his attention lured to the looping white scrawl. _‘Everything Whale be Alright!’_ it proclaimed, beneath a cartoonish whimsical whale. "Really?" he asked in a deadpan, unimpressed tone. Where had Erwin been hiding this terrible sense of humour at the station? "They only let you take the rod out of your ass when you get home?"

Erwin smiled at Levi's crude statement. "I admit I’m a little different at home, when I am off duty. There's just a certain way I have to be to do my job well. Aren't you the same, when you work for Kenny?"

Levi thought about it. He had to be different. Kenny’s world was nothing like the life he chose. "I suppose," he conceded.

Despite refusing any work too offensive to his sensibilities, Levi had frequently compromised his morals. Roughing up some drug dealer for playing hardball wasn't so bad. But covering up some of Kenny's less equitable crimes was a hard task.

"I believe everyone is different at work. Who I am just happens to be...very different," Erwin explained, sitting down across the table from Levi. "If I want to be good at it. Which I am." He said it without ego.

"Do you think he'll go down for this one?" Levi’s tone was full of doubt.

"I am in the best position to make this charge stick," he continued. "I want Kenny to go down for something and this time he has been more than careless - he has also accused you, the one person in his operation who I believe is unafraid to say no to him. You are a powerful weapon against him now. So yes. I have every hope."

Levi raised an eyebrow. He thought Kenny made the smart move by taking him out of the picture, but Erwin described it like his uncle was making a mistake. "He accused me _because_ I'm the person who says no. I'm not loyal to him and he knows it."

"Exactly," said Erwin. "And so you are the weak link to him, but he only made you so by throwing you under the bus. He did not think through what would happen, but then how could he know what I would do? It’s not as if we are acquainted."

"Never even questioned him?" Levi didn't think too hard on it, instead contemplating his uncle’s choices. Maybe Kenny thought he was living on borrowed time, that Levi would inevitably crack one day, have an attack of conscience and sell him out. He was wrong.

"Never," Erwin shook his head. "Kenny's experiences with the police have been - I believe - good ones, at least from his point of view. When I became Chief there was a lot of corruption in the force, and a lot of laziness. This is what your Uncle is used to dealing with." He was sure this was nothing Levi couldn't have already guessed. "I decided it was best if I avoided him. Do you understand why I do that?" 

Levi frowned at the pop quiz. He felt like he was being tested. "I don't know. Know your enemy without him knowing you?" He shrugged. Nobody would want to meet Kenny anyway. "You're not missing out."

That amused Erwin, and the sudden bubbling of his laughter took Levi by surprise, not in an unpleasant way. He was so responsive. It took Erwin a few moments to stop so he could continue talking, one hand clutched at his stomach. 

"I know I'm not," the detective said at last. "I know enough about him to be sure that he is a vile individual."

Levi kept his agreement to himself, letting silence reign for a while, sipping at his tea.  
Something didn't feel quite right about sharing a living space with Erwin. And not just because he was a cop, or a chief at that. The man was like a stranger. Better than Kenny by default but a stranger nonetheless.

He looked up suddenly. "Hey. Tell me something."

Erwin tilted his head, intrigued. "Tell you what Levi?" he asked, leaning forward slightly.

“Anything. Tell me your favourite colour. Your middle name. Your age. Why you’re a cop. How big your family is.” Seeing the slightly confounded look on the detective’s face, he tutted impatiently. “You know me inside out, and it’s not fair.”

“Anything?” Erwin echoed, one eyebrow raising up towards his hairline. “Hmm.” He tapped his finger on the edge of his own mug - full of hot chocolate and declaring ‘I’m a whisk taker’ next to a picture of an anthropomorphised whisk. Levi was right; he did know so much about him and it was unfair. Luckily there were many harmless things he could tell him. He was just unpractised when it came to saying them out loud.

“I don’t have a middle name,” he answered. “I’m 42 and my favorite colour is green. My networking fun fact is that I own over 50 pairs of socks, all in different patterns. Does that help at all? I suppose I can answer more questions if you have them.”

“Nobody needs a hundred socks, Erwin,” he said disparagingly as he raised his cup, draining it. The rest sounded normal enough.

“Nobody needs a 60 inch television, or a designer handbag, or a fancy car,” Erwin retorted. “But they have them because they like them. Socks are my vice.” The look in his eyes made it hard to tell if he was joking or not; he wasn’t.

Levi stared at him, silently blinking. Did he just compare socks to a fancy car? That explained the rusty box that had carted them here, bouncing down the road via the moon.

He moved on to the next important topic. “You have any house rules?” As soon as he asked, he expected to hear a list of patronising demands, starting with a ban on drugs and alcohol, but the question seemed novel to Erwin.

“I’ve never thought about it before...” The blond looked around at his apartment, thinking about his routine. “No loud music after 10pm, the person upstairs is a sweet old lady who likes peace and quiet. Naturally you need to stay inside, no going out, no inviting round any friends, and if the phone rings or the bell goes then ignore it. That is all I can think of for now.” He could rule his office off-limits, but he felt that should be obvious and he didn’t want to draw attention to it. Levi might not obey that rule anyway.

He sipped his hot chocolate and looked at Levi, trying not to stare, at least not too obviously. The man sitting opposite him, at his own table, was the key to unravelling Kenny Ackerman. He was oddly unassuming. There was a crude honesty to Levi that he wouldn’t have expected in the nephew of a man like Kenny, but then it was natural to want to be the opposite of those you found distasteful, and Levi certainly did find Kenny distasteful. Erwin found himself with a blossoming respect for Levi, who was wearing the slightest smile as he listened to the rules. No noise, no visitors, and no answering the phone. Perhaps the PI had told Erwin about Levi’s solitary habits.

Levi wondered if the cop knew what a gift he was giving. “Whatever you say... chief.” 

That smile was not lost on Erwin. Actually he found it quite becoming on the man, lighting up his dark eyes just a touch, and he couldn’t look away.

He hopped up from his seat, finishing the last of his hot chocolate, and turned towards his office.

“I will be back in a moment,” he told Levi, and headed into the room. He quickly gathered up a few important papers and files, and locked them into his safe along with his spare handgun. They joined a number of other papers, some valuable documents and keepsakes, plus a few other weapons. Now there was nothing in here that he cared about Levi finding. Except the mess.

Erwin came back into the living room to find that Levi hadn’t moved an inch. He was gazing out of the eighth-storey window, seemingly lost in thought. “Would you like a house tour?” he asked, snapping the other man from his reverie. “I should find you some clothes to borrow. We’re not exactly the same size but I’m sure one of my shirts will suffice.”

Nodding, Levi accepted the offer, approaching where the detective stood. The closer he got, the less he liked the idea of borrowing Erwin’s shirts, which would probably resemble tents draped over his head... but if it was a choice between that and unclean clothes, then it would have to do.

Erwin gestured for Levi to follow him, and he quickly showed him the kitchen, the office and the weights room.

“You can use them if you like,” he offered. “And anything else you wish. I have quite a few channels on the TV, and plenty of books.” He wondered what Levi would choose. That in itself was an interesting thing. “I don’t suppose you had much. I tried to imagine it sometimes; packing my belongings into a bag, never sure when I would have to move on, not getting used to any place.”

He got a non-committal shrug back. “It was okay. As long as I had the run of the place.” Whenever Kenny showed up and stayed for too long, Levi would begrudgingly pack up his things and traipse to the other house before any of the more colourful members of his gang could arrive.

Erwin took him to the bedroom, and started rummaging in the wardrobe to find the smallest thing he owned. In the silence, Levi had a chance to wonder why Erwin was putting on such a sympathetic tone for him. The man must have seen his record. He was a criminal. In hindsight those mistakes had played into Kenny’s hands, his record doing much to corroborate the story that Levi was a murderer. 

That felt like a lifetime ago now that Levi was standing in a cop’s bedroom, watching the chief of police throw open drawers and clatter hangers around. 

He was still deep in thought by the time Erwin turned to face him, and had to shake himself to attention to accept the offering, which turned out to be a still-very-large jumper and jeans. The blond looked apologetically at him. 

“Oh. Th--” Levi stopped just short of expressing gratitude when he noticed the size of the jeans. He held them up by the waistband, staring at Erwin over the top of them. “You got a belt, giant?”

Erwin returned to his cabinet, speaking distractedly. “Somewhere I’m sure,” he murmured, pushing aside shirts and shorts and the occasional floral sock until his hand came upon a leather belt. He hoped it would have enough notches.

Levi rolled his eyes as he took the clothes and the belt, before leaving and going back to the living room. At least this was cushy compared to prison.


	4. Uncle Kenny (1st November 1985)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the hospital, a young Levi meets his Uncle Kenny for the first time.

Levi had been here before, and he knew the clean corridors and hospital smell of disinfectant very well. His shoes always squeaked on the spotless lino and there was a big gift shop full of balloons in the front desk. Once when he was very little, the man at the counter let him have one for his mother. It was pink because Mama liked pink. It said "Congratulations, it's a girl" but she didn't mind. Maybe he could get her another balloon this time.

There was another time one of the nurses gave him a coat. He said his little boy was too big for it now, but Levi was still small, so it fit him. He told Mama about it, and she smiled sleepily at him in the taxi home. He didn't know why the nurse had put the tag back on but it said Age 2-3 and Levi was four at the time. He asked Mama and she said he was a little four.

His feet didn't touch the floor as he sat in the corridor outside the door, kicking them in a straight line, the scuffed toes of his shoes following the grid of the tiles. Sometimes he played hopscotch or walked up and down the corridor without standing on a single line.

He was so bored, but the doctors and nurses were nice to him. Sometimes they came out to talk to him. There was a lady with short blonde curls and glasses and a white coat, and she was so much taller than his mother. She asked him lots of questions, like what kind of sweets he liked and whether mama liked sweets and if he had any siblings and if mama took any medicine and who his friends were and if he knew any other grownups.

She was sick again. She was never very well at home, where things were dirty and there were too many people. Then she went to the clean, bright white hospital and got her own room and all the smart-dressed people woke her up. He wished she could just live at the hospital and be awake all the time.

He waited for someone to tell him she was done sleeping, but the only person who came out was a tall dark-skinned man in one of those blue plastic suits, all squeaky when he moved.

"Are you bored, kiddo?" he asked. His big, dark eyes were shiny and so were his bright teeth. Levi always thought adult teeth were dark and broken.

"Yeeeah..." Levi flopped theatrically back on the chair.

The nurse’s eyes got even shinier. "We’re going to find someone to come and sit with you," he replied. "Is there anyone you want to talk to?"

Levi shook his head. The man gave him some change for the machine, so he went down the corridor and found the vending machine. All the snacks had changed since last time. He dragged over a chair, loudly clattering across the lino, so he could stand on it and feed in the silver coins one after another. He pushed the numbers and a juicebox came thudding into the tray.

There was a lot of whispering going on in the hall, and people looking at him as they came in and out of the little rooms. The next time he looked up, the nurse and the blonde doctor were both going back in his mother’s room. Wide-eyed, vacantly, he slowly put one foot in front of the other, going back to his lookout spot in the chair outside. If they were leaving, maybe it meant she was awake, but nobody looked very happy. He had a bad feeling about it.

\--------

"I ain't even seen the woman in a year," Kenny grumbled, arms folded, as Uri drove them up to the hospital car park. "Why they even callin' me eh?"

Uri didn't answer, just shook his head and pulled carefully into the empty space before getting out of the car. He was used to Kenny ranting about something and nothing.

“What am I even supposed to do? I don’t know who the fuck the kid’s dad is, and I don’t know anythin’ about raisin’ brats.”

Kenny followed Uri towards the hospital doors, finishing his cigarette and throwing it down onto the floor.

"Blame you for this," Kenny continued, glaring at the back of his head. "You and your bleedin' fucking heart. You'll be the death of me, what are we takin' in next eh? Three legged kittens? One eyed mice? Wilted houseplants?" He coughed a laugh, but Uri could tell he wasn’t at all amused. This front was typical of him.

Uri got the attention of the receptionist while Kenny stood aside and let him do the talking. It was a neat arrangement all round really; Kenny did the hard business stuff that Uri tired of, and Uri did pretty much everything annoying that Kenny couldn't be bothered with. Like dealing with ordinary people. He hated that shit.

"We got a call about Kuchel Ackerman," Uri said, then gestured at his companion. “This is her next of kin.” Once he had the directions, he led the way down the bright white, lemon-scented corridors. Sometimes Kenny was like a sulky child but it wasn't so bad. He found him quite funny really. He glanced back at him.

"There’s just the two of you," he mused. "No grandparents, no father, no aunts and uncles. Kid doesn’t have anyone other than you. Anyway… you're probably the one who got her hooked on this nonsense anyway, am I right?"

"Not fucking likely," Kenny growled. “Never sold her a gram in her life.” But deep down, he wondered if his dealings had encouraged his sister’s habits, whether he had made a mistake. He only ever gave her just enough to take the edge off the withdrawals, but still... 

"Doesn't matter." Uri contended, looking up at him, seriousness lining his face. "The least you can do is help the boy."

Kenny waved his friend away with a _bah_ of frustration. The man might be right but he didn't have to like it.

They saw a dark haired kid up the corridor and Kenny knew it had to be her brat, Levi. He was sitting on a plastic chair by himself, sucking on a box of juice, looking dishevelled and small.

"Eh?" Kenny said as he approached. "Thought you were like 6 or something, Levi? You look like a baby. What, ain't Kuchel feed you nothing?" He stood over his nephew, toweringly tall compared to the boy, while Uri hung back.

"I'm five." Levi frowned up at the tall man. He had been at the house before, but that was a long time ago. Levi didn't know what he was doing here, or why he was calling him a baby. He wanted to kick him in the shins.

The little grey-haired man behind him wasn't a doctor because he was wearing normal clothes too. Levi guessed they were his mother's friends. He pointed at the door with a tiny hand. "Mama's in there. You're not allowed."

"Not allowed eh?" Kenny sneered, as if it was Levi who had made the rules. "And who's going to stop me? You, tiny brat?" He pointed to himself with his thumb.

"Nurses only," Levi said, still frowning. They would never let this guy be a nurse.

Uri just shook his head. "Leave the kid be," he said, putting a hand on Kenny's shoulder. "You'll scare him, you giant idiot. He's only a tiny thing." He peered down at Levi, and reached out to pat him on the head.

Levi looked up at the older man, who he didn't recognise at all. "I'm not tiny, I'm five." He emphasised it again, as if they weren’t paying attention.

Kenny leaned down. "Remember me, your Uncle Kenny? Saw ya once when you were like-" He held his hands about a foot apart. "-This big. Now you're like-" He parted his hand by a further inch. "-This big." He laughed at his own joke. 

Instead of laughing with him, the kid glared. He didn't remember Uncle Kenny much. Everyone was Uncle or Auntie something. They must be his mother's friends. Maybe they could drive her and Levi home when she came out.

The door clicked open and the blonde doctor appeared. She pointedly avoided looking at Levi, instead turning to the old man standing over him. "Mr Ackerman?"

Uri shook his head.

"Nah - this is Mr Ackerman," he said, and he gave Kenny a grin as he emphasised the name. Kenny threw him a foul look.

"Yeah, Kenny Ackerman," he confirmed to the blonde, without any of his usual bravado. "What happened then? Callin' me in like this, isn’t there anyone else eh? I don’t have any kids and I’m a busy man. Tell her, Uri."

"He's pretty busy, yeah," Uri said, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry Mr Ackerman,” the doctor replied. “Ms Ackerman listed you as her emergency contact every time she has been in hospital, and you are down as her next of kin too. If you aren’t able to take little Levi on permanently then we’ll make arrangements for social services, but if you can take him for a least a few nights while that is put in place..”

Uri tried to distract the kid from the conversation, nodding at his juice box. "Where'd you get that from?"

"There's a machine," Levi said, pointing down the hallway, while the doctor spoke to his uncle. He thought the vending machine was awe-inspiring. All clean packaged colourful things ready to buy without having to talk to a person or tiptoe over the counter. 

The doctor had led Kenny away, and was talking to him quietly. Levi lifted himself off the chair. "Hey, wait," Uri said softly, holding out a hand, but Levi ducked underneath it and followed the doctor. He didn't think he liked Kenny and he didn't know why the doctors were talking to him. It was Levi who had been waiting around all day.

"What's going on?" he said, standing in the hallway and calling after them. 

"Hey!" Kenny snapped as he turned his head to face Levi, who had had the audacity to trail after them like some kind of annoying shadow. "Get back to your chair already. You can't see the grown ups are talkin'?” 

He glanced up at Uri, and just for a moment he felt guilty because he was looking at him with a cringing disapproval. Fuck Uri. The man had some influence over Kenny that he never quite understood, but when he judged him it made Kenny want to act just a little better. He sighed and crouched down in front of Levi, looking the little kid in the eyes.

"Look here, kid," he started, just a little less abrasively. “Things are gonna have to change now, because your ma’s gone. Do you know what that means?"

The boy stared blankly back at him, frozen still, so he shook him gently by the shoulders. "Do you?"

"Gone where?" Levi asked, remembering the time she got taken off in an ambulance to a different hospital. It had been scary at first, but then he got inside the ward and it looked just like this one, shiny and clean with automatic doors and vending machines and nicer adults. Nicer than Kenny. And then mama got better and came home, just like always. This didn't sound like that.

"Gone forever?" His eyes were wide, his expression crestfallen, begging to be corrected. Hospitals had never yet failed to make her better.

"You're a clever enough one," Kenny said to Levi. "Yeah - gone forever. She can't come back from where she's headed." He looked up at Uri for more direction, but he looked as lost as Kenny was.

"Don't blubber, okay?” he continued, looking back at the devastated face of his nephew. “She didn't _want_ to go. Bet she wanted to stay and be some kind of mother to you. Wipe your nose, change your socks, that sorta thing.” 

Levi didn't want to cry in front of strangers, but his hands were shaking so he balled them into fists, staring unblinkingly at the floor. It was somehow even worse that his mother didn't want to go. It wasn't fair.

“Sometimes we don't get a choice in life,” Kenny tried to explain. “So maybe you'll come with me." He looked at Levi as if he were sizing him up. "You look like you could be pretty strong eh? Bit small, but I bet you could throw a good punch if ya had to! Course you could. You're my blood aren't ya?" He grinned at Levi, though this whole conversation was a struggle. Who knew how to talk to kids anyway?

"Where is she headed?" Levi asked in a voice even smaller than usual. He wasn't unaware of death, and had even been to a funeral with his mother before. But nobody had ever really told him what happened after you die.

“I don’t know where she’s headed kid,” Kenny sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Somewhere better than here I guess?” 

He was no good with kids, and he had no idea why he was agreeing to this shit. Except the kid was his only blood. He knew if he tried to leave Levi to someone else, Uri would be mad, say he’d abandoned his family and who knew what would happen to the kid now. Kenny guessed he did care about family a bit. He had tried to help his sister hadn’t he? Sort of. It wasn’t his fault she had refused to take it, refused to come home, refused to get clean. And where’d that got her? Dead, with this kid left hanging about the place for him to take care of.

The blonde lady was going back into the room and nobody else had come out. Levi couldn't let go of the hope that one of the doctors would fix it. He peered in, but all he could see was a wall of people by the bed, not a glimpse of his mother.

If mama wasn't coming home, then he couldn't imagine what life would be like. He didn't know how to do the things she did. He made sandwiches when she was sick and got himself dressed and ate biscuits from the cupboard but who was going to put them in the cupboard in the first place? Was there going to be a taxi to take him home like before, except alone this time?

He couldn't help it, and he started crying silently. He stayed as quiet as possible, not wanting Kenny to say anything mean about it.

“Hey, how about you come stay at my house for tonight?” Kenny said eventually, no idea what else to do when the kid was crying like that. 

Levi kept his eyes downcast, staring at the floor. “Do you know how to buy biscuits and sandwiches?” he asked shakily.

“Uh… yeah, I do.” Kenny laughed, wondering where that came from.

That settled it. Levi dabbed at his eyes with his overly long sleeve, nodding at his uncle. When the two adults started to walk, he followed behind slowly, taking one last look at the closed hospital door.


	5. Suspended (25th October 1992)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Levi gets into trouble at school, Kenny steps in.

“Yeah, yeah,” Kenny said dismissively as he flung open the door of the office and strode into the quiet school reception. “Whatever you say!” He looked down at his sullen nephew sitting on the row of hard, plastic chairs.

When he’d got the call he’d been in the middle of a meeting. He hadn’t hurried, but made the headteacher wait as long as he could just to piss them off, walking in two hours later just to find out that Levi had punched some other kid.

“We take this very seriously, Mr Ackerman,” the big-eared Mrs Anders had said, her hands folded on the desk and her mouth set in a thin line. The other teacher next to her, that Kenny hadn’t bothered to remember the name of, nodded along just as gravely. Kenny had just laughed.

“Sure, me too,” he’d replied with a sarcastic bite. “Next he’ll be burnin’ down the school tuck shop and thievin’ toilet rolls, eh?” They’d looked at one another in bewilderment, and he’d liked the impression he’d made on these idiots.

His mood was much improved since he’d arrived though, and decided to have some fun with them. He pointed at Levi.

“Oi, you,” he barked. “Get up. You tell me why the hit that kid, and I don’t wanna hear any lip about it.”

Levi sullenly pulled himself out of the plastic red chair, looking at his uncle’s shoes. What did he mean, answer the question and no lip? Was he meant to talk or not? When he glanced up, Kenny was staring back at him expectantly, so he spoke.

“He grabbed me.” It was a non-event, at least in his eyes. The corridors were always crowded between lessons but this kid seemed to think he got to go ahead, yanking people back by their backpacks and striding through the crowds. As soon as Levi felt the pull on his own bag, he turned around with a fist raised and socked the boy in the mouth. He’d almost been surprised at the reaction it got. It was only one punch.

“He’s a dick anyway,” he mumbled.

“Grabbed you?” Kenny echoed, leaning down slightly from his full height, looming over Levi. “So you punched him. Even though-” He gestured behind him. “-The teachers told you they don’t like that shit?” He could practically hear them flinching at the swear. Levi caught sight of their reaction, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. They should have been scolding the other kid just as much for pulling people around, but he suspected that they just disliked him. 

“What you gotta say for yourself eh?” Kenny prodded. “Because they want me to make you apologise.” He grinned at the very idea, unseen by the teachers.

“I won’t,” Levi said resolutely. “He’s always pushing. Now he’s snivelling like a bitch because it happened to him.” He folded his arms, looking away from all the adults in the room. It seemed as if Kenny was about to haul him in front of the boy but Levi would sooner punch him again than apologise. The brat was just playing victim because he got hit back for once.

At that, Kenny laughed out loud, throwing back his head. He reached out his hand and roughly ruffled Levi’s hair, a rare sign of affection. Levi’s large eyes widened in surprise.

“Good!” he said. “You have been listenin’ to what I say. You don’t apologise and you don’t back down, you do what you gotta do. If some kid is disrespectin’ you, you give him what for, just like this.” He felt something, almost pride, but he stopped short of saying it; there was no need to go mad.

Levi was just relieved to hear that he wasn’t going to have to reluctantly apologise to someone who deserved what he got.

“He _was_ disrespecting me,” he said fervently, now reassured that he had done the right thing despite his teachers’ reaction.

“So you’re not mad?” he added tentatively. 

“Heh. Nah, not this time,” Kenny replied, shaking his head. He glanced back at the teachers and revelled in their appalled look.

“Mr Ackerman-,” the head started to say, but Kenny cut her off.

“Hey, I don’t wanna hear anymore bull from you,” he said forcefully. “Feedin’ this brat with your play-nice shit. Where’s that gonna get him?” He sneered at them and ignored their attempts to further talk to him about his conduct, turning to Levi.

“Come on kid, we’re outta here. They ain’t lettin’ you back to school for a while. Say bye to these losers eh?”

Levi simply looked at his teacher then back at his uncle, nodding before leaving. He wasn’t quite as eager to rub it in as Kenny was, but nor did he feel bad.

His uncle strode outside, towards the car park, letting Levi do his best to keep up without making allowances for him. This shitty school, he thought as he idly kicked a stone towards the sad looking playground marked out with faded white lines for games of tag and hopscotch and such. He almost felt bad for the kid being stuck in a prison like this every day. Assuming he actually came. Kenny didn’t know and didn’t care - if he skipped he didn’t blame him, and where was school going to get him anyway if he was run by pacifists? He’d seen what happened to people like that and no way was his nephew gonna turn out like his dumbass parents.

He shoved the key into the lock of his unassuming Mitsubishi Shogun and heaved himself behind the wheel.

“You get in the front today, brat,” he said as Levi approached the door behind him. Maybe the kid deserved a couple of treats, show him he was going down the right path.

For a second, Levi analysed his uncle’s voice, then decided he was probably being serious and pulled himself up with a struggle to sit in the seat next to him, flinging his bag into the footwell.

The engine rumbled loud behind them as Kenny fired it up. Levi looked at the school disappearing into the distance behind him. He wasn’t sorry to see it go. 

He didn’t speak again until they had pulled out of the school gates. “He’s older than me, _and_ bigger, and I only punched him once. Why’d he have to cry about it?” 

“Because he’s a weak-ass little shit snitch,” Kenny said with a laugh. “Just ‘cause he’s bigger than you don’t mean jack-all - just as well eh, the way you’re growin’ everyone’s gonna be bigger than you.”

“I don’t care if they are.” From the looks of things, tall kids went down just as easily. He’d never got in any physical fights at primary school but nobody had tried to start anything. It seemed like secondary school was going to be different.

If Levi had thrown someone and they hit him, he would have thought it was a fair fight. Throwing your weight around and then crying to a teacher when you got hit back was stupid, spineless behaviour.

“Good, you shouldn’t give a shit,” Kenny told him, gesturing with one arm. “There’s always ways to get what you want, long as you’re smart. Remember that, kid. That’s how I got where I am today - take advantage of weakness, don’t let anyone tell you what to do, and if in doubt hit ‘em.” He grinned widely. “And don’t listen to anyone tellin’ you otherwise. People like to spout crap about rules and right and wrong but it’s all bullshit. All of it. Ain’t no such thing. There’s only the people who follow the rules, and the people who use them to get ahead.”

Levi looked at his schoolbag as his uncle spoke, letting the words sink in. It definitely sounded right; his teachers were always coming up with rules like uniforms and double-underlining titles and using these words but not those words. It was frustrating, being given so much with no reason. If he could see the sense in it, he might be more inclined to obey, but that was rarely the case.

“How long do I have to stay off for?”

“A week,” Kenny answered, as turned the car right into a retail park, and parked up in front of a McDonalds. “But I reckon you should take two, eh - you earned it.” 

“I’m not doing the homework then,” Levi muttered in a low tone. Some subjects were okay but now he had some geography project and he’d been dreading wasting hours on it. He didn’t care about rocks. It was due during the time he’d be off, so now he wasn’t going to bother.

Kenny nodded in approval; he didn’t care about homework. If Levi didn’t do it then he wasn’t worried, as long as the brat stayed out of his way when he was busy working.

The slowing of the car interrupted Levi’s train of thought. “Where are we going?” he asked, peering out of the window.

“We’re gettin’ burgers, idiot,” Kenny replied with a roll of his eyes. Without waiting for a response he shoved open the car door and got out.

“Burgers?” he repeated. Now he knew he definitely wasn’t in trouble. He climbed out of the car, walking fast to keep pace with his uncle.

Kenny ushered him off to pick a table while he ordered everything, and when he came back, he had all the bright colourful paper boxes full of hot food that smelled really good. Levi unwrapped his straw. His uncle was looking out of the window, and Levi observed his profile. It wasn’t this often that Kenny stayed still, or that Levi spent time around him, and this felt like a rare opportunity to examine him.

“Did you get in fights at school?” he asked.

“Fights?” he echoed, looking round at Levi. “Yeah, all the time. My dad thought I was a little shit and he was right, but at least I wasn’t shootin’ up, gettin’ myself wrecked.” His eyes darkened for a moment, and Levi picked up on it. He knew enough to guess that it was heroin. That was his mother’s drug of choice too. He couldn’t say for sure if Kenny ever did it, but he showed none of the signs that Levi remembered, and his disdain made it sound as if he didn’t like the stuff.

Levi doubled his resolve to stay away from drugs, if both his mother and Kenny advised against it. It was one of the few things they agreed upon.

“Reckon I got caned about once a week. Most of the time it was ‘cause I was stoppin’ someone from giving your Mum any shit.” He didn’t bother to mention that he always took it too far; if someone so much as shoved Kuchel, he’d punch and kick them until a teacher broke things up. 

Despite being in the same house half the time, Levi and Kenny lived in separate worlds. His uncle was always busy, and Levi enjoyed solitude. But it was hard to be mad at him right now, since he was being rewarded. It was also easy to picture Kenny almost valiant, protecting his little sister. Somehow he pictured his mother like himself, but with long hair. As he dipped his fries into a mini tub of ketchup, Levi mused about how different things might be if he had a sibling, but unlike Kuchel, he was in this alone.

“You know what that is, eh?” Kenny asked. “Being caned?”

“Yeah...” Levi nodded. “I forgot teachers used to do that.” He wondered what it would be like if he could get caned now; it’d probably happen every time he skipped school, or failed to complete the homework. If he had ever been told to ‘fetch the cane’, he’d probably have walked out and never seen the inside of a school ever again.

He tried to imagine his own teacher caning a young Kenny, and he suspected they would get decked for it. “Did you hate school?”

“School? Yeah, it was shit,” Kenny replied with a scoffing laugh, as if the answer should be obvious. “Pointless crap. I barely went and look at me now - a successful businessman.” He grinned widely, but Levi knew what his uncle meant by ‘business’, and he wasn’t sure it counted when it was illegal.

“You wanna be successful, eh?” Kenny continued. “Well you don’t let them go tellin’ you that you need school for that. You just need to act _smart_.” 

Levi didn’t think he put much stock in being successful. All he wanted was to not live like his mother; filthy, sad, sick, struggling.

But his new school had already started talking about the future, and it was hard to imagine. He was twelve, and hadn’t exactly put much thought into careers. Things like interviews sounded like torture. He hated talking to people at the best of times.

“They’re talking about exams already. I don’t really like exams.”

Kenny took a bite of his burger, and then waved it at Levi as he spoke.

“Exams are just as fuckin’ stupid,” he told him. “Don’t worry about those, kid. Teachers just like to scare you, that’s like...their job, I guess. Bet they get paid for how many brats show up.” He laughed, thinking of his own exams, or at least how few he’d bothered to show up to. He already knew how he could make all the money he needed and it didn’t involve knowing who the kings of England were, or how to calculate algebra. “Anyway, I’ll always have jobs goin’, ways you can make money working for me.”

Levi frowned. The real world sounded pretty horrible most of the time, like he wasn’t going to make it out alive, that he’d struggle to get by. All he ever remembered was packing things into a bag and moving house again and again with his mother, never knowing if she was going to be nice or vacant or angry. The unpredictability made every day feel insecure. Everyone could leave. Everything could disappear. Everyone was an enemy.

But Kenny was his guardian now, and he made money. He had a job, and houses, and was still alive and well. He was a hard person. Nobody got past him and nobody took advantage of him. Maybe that was what Levi needed to emulate if he wanted to forge his own way, and not end up addicted, on the streets, or dead.

“Yeah. You got it.”


	6. Studious (25th October 1992)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Erwin confides in his Dad about his exam worries.

Adrian heard the front door open and looked up from his notebooks to check the clock; how could it already be so late that Erwin was home from school? He shook his head and called out;

“Hi Erwin, how was...”

He trailed off as he heard his son’s fading footsteps thumping on the stairs, with no reply or greeting. Adrian frowned, turning his chair to face the door, half expecting to hear Erwin’s footsteps coming towards him after all, thinking perhaps he had gone upstairs to find something he wanted to show him. After a minute or so of silence he realised that wasn’t happening. With a resigned sigh he stood up, heading up the stairs to his son’s bedroom. 

The door was slightly ajar but he knocked and waited, his gaze upon the cheerful wooden letters that spelled his son’s name, tacked to the white painted surface. Adrian remembered when he’d bought them; that holiday to Cornwall when the boy was just six years old. After a week of flicking through personalised keychains and pens, only to be disappointed at finding no "Erwin" option, he had discovered these individual letters and spent the next few minutes excitedly picking out each letter of his name and placing them down onto the counter, looking so proud of himself. They had been stuck here ever since.

After a polite few seconds, Adrian poked his head around the door frame.

“Is everything alright?” he asked, but it was already clear that it wasn’t. Erwin was sitting on his bed, facing away with hunched shoulders. His bag was on the floor right in front of the door, contents spilling out as if it had been immediately thrown down.

“I’m going to fail everything,” Erwin mumbled into his hand, not turning around.

At that, Adrian went into the room and sat down on the bed beside his son, frowning in worry. He stayed silent for a few moments, giving him a chance to respond on his own. He glanced around the little room. It was clean and simple, with Erwin’s personality summed up in a few items; a bright little globe on the shelf, a pot with an aloe vera plant on the window ledge and seemingly endless books on every surface.

It was also messy, with some of the books left sitting out on the floor and pens and papers all over his desk, Erwin always being far more interested in reading or writing or doing homework than in cleaning up after himself. It only served to make his words even more confusing, and when it became clear that Erwin wasn’t going to continue, Adrian prompted him in a soft voice. “What makes you say something like that?”

“I got a B minus today.” Erwin gestured behind him, to the discarded schoolbag, and the disappointing paper exam buried inside it. He could predict his father’s rational response already. “And don’t tell me a B minus isn’t bad. It was in English.” 

Adrian looked over at Erwin’s bag as he indicated it. He wanted to reach in and find the paper, to have a look at it, but he refrained despite the fact that this was the first time Erwin had ever complained about English. It was one of his best subjects. He liked the teacher, and parents’ evenings indicated that the teacher thought highly of him, too.

“If I get a B minus in English, what am I going to get in Maths?” the boy continued, hands clutching the knees of his grey school trousers.

This had always been Erwin’s biggest problem, Adrian thought. He was incredibly capable, and he knew it. Nothing his dad could do seemed to make any difference to the expectations he had for himself, or the worth he equated between himself and the grades he got, and Adrian was always very careful not to put any extra pressure onto him over it.

“Erwin,” he said gently, placing his hand around his shoulder and giving a gentle rub. “I can understand why you feel so disappointed, but that’s why they do these mock exams - not to make you worry, but so you can see what gaps are in your knowledge. It’s no reflection on how intelligent you are.”

“The real thing is in June!” Erwin turned to face his dad now, urgency in every note of his voice. “I can’t get from a B minus to an A in… eight months!”

He had always pictured a report card with straight As, just like when he was at primary school, and in the start of secondary school. He still liked his lessons, and thought he was doing well. This lower grade had completely blindsided him. Now he was picturing a B minus as the best on his transcript, sinking all the way down to D... even E.

“Oh Erwin,” said Adrian, trying unsuccessfully to hide a smile. “Eight months is a very long time. You absolutely can get that up to an A with...a lot less than the amount of work you put in.”

“You can’t be a teacher if you don’t pass Maths, English and Science,” Erwin said gloomily, like he was signing his own death warrant.

Adrian looked down at his son’s anxious blue eyes, his usually immaculate blonde hair wisped with little flyaway strands, betraying the fact that he had run all the way home. He felt an overwhelming love for his boy, but he kept quiet since he really wasn’t such a boy anymore these days. 

“Listen to me,” he continued seriously instead. “Your marks are already well above a passing grade. You don’t need to worry about that. You should do the best you can but you can’t expect perfection of yourself every time. Have _I_ ever expected that of you?”

“No, but…” Erwin frowned. He didn’t think expecting straight As was expecting perfection. He _could_ ace everything under the right circumstances, so he had set his heart on it. Anything less felt like such a step down now. Bringing home a mixed report card didn’t feel like much of an achievement.

He sighed. “I’ll have to make a revision timetable and see what I can do. I never really revised English before…” He had never needed to, so he had ignored it in favour of his weaker subjects. But it seemed like he was going to be revising everything from now on.

“Well that’s a sensible idea,” Adrian said cautiously. Erwin made charts and timetables for everything; he had a reading list on his wall, set out like a calendar, detailing which books he wanted to read each week. “Tell you what, let me help you with the timetable, and you can tell me your plan for revising English at the same time, since it’s new to you. Sound like a plan?” 

“Yeah?” Erwin’s eyes brightened up, then narrowed in curiosity. “Aren’t you busy?”

His dad always made time for him, but he was self-employed, and had a lot of projects on the go. Getting involved in teenage-level English study didn’t sound very worthy of his attention. He would never ever say so, but Erwin knew. And Adrian didn’t say so, but he wanted to make sure that Erwin scheduled in relaxation, fun and some time with his dad, not just endless revision. If anything, he was _too_ studious. He had no doubt that his son would have a plan within the hour. When he was younger and they went on holiday, the moment Erwin knew they were going he started researching the place and making an itinerary for the trip. He recalled fondly the times they had sat together, going over Erwin’s ideas, his heart full of admiration for his brilliant, clever boy.

“Not too much for you, Erwin,” Adrian replied, smiling to see the way his eyes lit up again. “I have time to help you.” 

Erwin was tempted to argue, and suggest that he do it by himself so as not to be a burden, but at the same time he didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to work on something with his dad. 

Adrian patted his shoulder once again, as if he could read his mind. “I know how much you want to be a teacher. You know I’ll only advise you things that will help with that goal, don’t you? And that no matter what your grades are, I love you?” He hoped Erwin wouldn’t find that too embarrassing - the older he got, the more unsure he was that his son would still appreciate his dad’s sentimentality.

“Mmhmm…” The boy’s voice carried a note of suspicion. He didn’t know what to say. His father’s approval still meant the world, but he also wanted those grades, and to be a teacher. Why couldn’t he have both? He felt slightly selfish as he thought it, but couldn’t help himself.

Still, the despair he had felt on the way home had already dissipated in his father’s light. He had imagined himself working in a call centre or something after getting a rack of mediocre grades, missing out on his dream. It felt silly now, sitting here beside his father. Eight months wasn’t so bad, really, was it? A lot could happen.

“It’ll be okay,” he said eventually.

“That’s my boy,” Adrian said encouragingly, and satisfied that he was feeling better, he stood up. “It _will_ be okay. Now, you work on the plan and after tea tonight we’ll look at your timetable.” He walked towards the door, but before he got there he paused and turned around again, looking over at Erwin.

“Also, please Erwin - tidy your room? Don’t think I can’t see all the socks shoved under the bed.”

His son’s expression was faintly horrified. He was failing English and his father thought the clutter was the priority? He wasn’t going to be writing the cleanliness of his room on his resume in years to come.

“But I have so much to do! And all of it matters more than… than laundry!”

“Erwin,” said Adrian in a warning tone. “Don’t argue - it will take you five minutes to tidy up. I don’t want to come in here later and see those socks still there, understand…” He didn’t wait for a reply before he headed out. Erwin watched him go, pulling an exasperated expression, and once he was absolutely sure he’d gone and wasn’t turning back, he grabbed a dusty pair of socks from under the bed, balled them up, and sulkily threw them at the door.


	7. Family Business (2nd November 1997)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi rescues a woman from trouble during Kenny's party, and is forced to socialise when this catches his Uncle's attention.

Levi was used to raised voices when Kenny's parties were on. This was one of those unfortunate times when both houses were being used, so there was no escape. He'd only find the spare room at Winterford packed floor to ceiling with contraband items, so he was better off locking his door here and trying to sleep.

Every now and then, he would hear a smashing bottle, a braying laugh or raised voices all trying to out-do each other. He was thinking of how much cleanup there would be tomorrow.

He'd heard two people talking out in the corridor for some time, but tuned it out because neither of them were Kenny. One was female, and the other lacked the low drawl that his uncle possessed, the one that only intensified with alcohol.

As it dragged on, he considered going out and telling them to fuck off back downstairs, but he was laid out flat on the bed, fully dressed and wide awake but lethargic. It would take nothing short of an emergency to make him move.

Suddenly the woman's voice got louder, and Levi sat bolt upright. 

“I said no!”

There was a dull thud, the sound of a body slamming against the wall. _That_ qualified as an emergency.

By the time he reached the door, the woman was shrieking. Unlatching it and flinging it open, he saw some junkie with his fist full of her hair. From what he could tell, she had shoved him into the wall and he was retaliating full force.

If he pulled the guy, then she would get scalped. Instead he sprinted the short distance and delivered a sharp roundhouse kick to the gut, skimming past the girl's legs and doubling the guy over. He cried out as Levi's foot connected with his stomach. Seeing that he released his grip on the girl with a gasp for breath, Levi hit him with a back fist just for good measure. He collided hard with the wall again.

"Motherfucker," Levi hissed, and the man grunted and barrelled forwards, fist at the ready. He swung and missed, but twisted his body at the last moment and practically fell into him.

The girl, now free, cowered against the wall away from the violence, then saw her opportunity and fled down the stairs.

Meanwhile Levi’s opponent was a stumbling wreck, his eyes glazed and his movements clumsy. Levi was about to step aside and trip the man, but they were fighting in a dangerous location at the top of the stairs. He wanted to beat the shit out of the guy, not accidentally leave him with a broken neck in front of a host of witnesses.

Instead as he lumbered closer, Levi had to reach up and grab his shoulders, clenching his teeth as he used all his strength to push him back. It didn't take long for him to trip again, and this time his weight sent Levi's bedroom door crashing wide open. He landed flat on his back in the frame, halfway between each room.

As he sank, he tried to steady himself by grabbing at Levi, instead hitting him in the mouth and then clutching at his shirt, dragging both of them down with the same momentum.

The throbbing of his lip and Levi’s racing thoughts made him want to kill this guy. What would he have done if he was alone? Was this the type of man that had fucked his mother? The type that gave her the money she needed to poison herself to death? Did they throw her around? Was his father a man just like this?

Scum like this was better off dead, but that wasn't his choice to make. He could make it hurt though.

With one knee on his enemy's chest and the other foot placed firmly on the ground beside him, Levi socked the man in the jaw. "That killed your hard-on… didn't it?" he said quietly, fist raised, ready to go again.

Downstairs, Kenny was inclined to ignore Anna's hysterical whining, batting her away. Didn’t she get she was killing his good mood? Then she grabbed him by the collar and shook him, and he realised she was saying something serious. 

“...grabbed my hair, then your nephew flew at him-”

_Levi?_ No one mentioned Levi at his parties, the kid stayed out of sight. And who was grabbing at her? Kenny sat up and listened properly even though she was ranting urgently. He finally jumped up and grabbed her wrist to drag her back upstairs with him. He’d sort out stupid ass Nathan, thinking he could push his girls around...

"Oi, oi!" he yelled at the fighting pair, arriving just in time to see Levi practically throw Nathan through a doorway. "What the hell eh?" 

He looked with wide eyes at Nathan sprawled out on the ground, with Levi kneeling over him, panting slightly, ready with fist raised. Nathan was groaning and shielding his face, looking terrified. Levi thought about hitting him again, but he had already given up.

"Woah, Levi," Kenny whistled. "You really fucked Nate up."

Levi spared a glance back at Kenny, then extricated himself from the fight, rising to his feet with a watchful eye on his enemy. Upon standing, he moved beside his uncle, then noticed the girl behind him. "_Nate_ was asking for it."

“You tryin’ to get your hands on Anna when she’s off duty?” he said, giving Nathan a sharp kick in the leg. “Fucker - no one screws me and my girls over, get it?” He shook his head and turned to Levi, patting Anna’s hand as she clung to him, shaking. In was in his best interests to soothe her if she was scared.

Nathan groaned at the kick, rolling over slightly, his face a mixture of pain and embarrassment at being beaten up by a teenager.

“Didn’t know you had that in you,” Kenny continued, looking impressed at his nephew. “Never seen you beat the shit out of someone before. Maybe you ain’t as useless as I thought.” He looked like he was studying him, contemplating something.

Levi looked at his uncle with a critical gaze, confused by his response. He'd thought Kenny would yell like a maniac at everyone, then fuck off back to his party.

“Why don’t you come downstairs and join the party properly eh? I’ll introduce you to everyone. ‘Bout time you learnt the family business, instead of sulkin’ up here.”

Levi pictured the scene downstairs; the mess, the mass of people, the drugs and the alcohol. He shook his head. "You know I hate that shit, Kenny." Approaching his fallen opponent, he grabbed his hair, pulling him into a sitting position, eliciting a yelp. "But I _will_ dispose of this."

Levi dragged the man, who followed with his feet tripping and stumbling, although he started to put up a fight as they reached the door, yelling barely distinguishable threats and curses at Levi. "I'm leaving, I'm leaving!" he shouted in a drunken slurred voice, grabbing his jacket. He didn’t so much put it on as he did violently thrust his arms into it.

Kenny watched, grinning, as Levi threw Nathan out. The man blubbered his words like a baby, still going when Levi slammed the door on him. He would have to decide what to do with him later. For now he put his arm around Anna, giving her hips a squeeze, and pushed her towards the kitchen.

“Have a little treat,” he said, holding out a bag of the best that he’d charge her for later. Her face lit up and she took the bag, kissed his cheek, and went off.

He couldn’t deny that he was impressed with what Levi had done. He had been starting to think that the kid was too soft to be of any use, had even blamed himself for it in his darkest moments, thinking he should have taken him under his wing a little more. Levi always looked so disinterested though and nothing Kenny said seemed to sway him; not money, not power, nothing. He didn’t understand what Levi valued.

Perhaps it was violence.

“Oi, Levi,” he called, moving to stand in front of him, looking down at all five foot of the man. “Come on, I mean it - join us for a bit. If you like beatin’ up people I got a ton who need some roughin’ up! I pay well for it.” 

Levi folded his arms, leaning against the wall. Kenny was standing at the bottom of the stairway, and it would be hard to get past him. He really didn't want to voice his real thoughts, knowing what Kenny would make of it.

His uncle grinned and continued. “I always thought you were a useless little shit, but I see maybe I was wrong. Maybe you take after me after all.”

"I don't like beating people unless they deserve it." Levi jabbed his thumb towards the door. "He deserved it." Upon glancing around, he suddenly realised the girl had disappeared. 

He stepped towards Kenny, obviously making a move to retreat back to his room, but a large palm planted firmly on his chest. He looked up. His uncle's position on the first step gave him a much unneeded extra height advantage.

“Yeah?” said Kenny, enjoying being right in his way like this, stopping him from leaving. “Well lotsa people I know deserve it, so you’ll like it plenty. The kinda people I want you to deal with are just the sorts you hate - addicts, murderers, thieves. And they usually owe me money. I could put your fists to good use on their faces.” He snickered a laugh. “So you’re coming into the party, and you’re gonna learn some names and faces so you’ll know _who_ to beat up when they don’t pay their way.” He shoved him in the chest roughly, towards the door to the living room. 

Behind it was a noise of chatter and music, but it was not a joyful party sound. The voices were excited babbling, mad ramblings, paranoid buzzing, desperate mumblings. It was the chatter of people detached from reality by the lure of addiction. This was the kind of party that Kenny threw, and the kind of company he kept, though surrounding the sofa were some of his closest and most sober associates; Duran, Traute, Dimo. They looked as if they expected Kenny to come back over, but instead he waved his hand at them and led Levi by the shoulder towards a relatively quiet corner, which by these standards was simply the corner furthest from the speakers.

Levi was suspiciously eyeing the group. The girl that Nate had been groping was looking much more sedate, now dazed and lounging on one of the sofas. It unsettled him to think that she had probably been high the whole time.

Plenty of the other people were too, although most were half-lucid. They smoked and talked, cutting each other off, sometimes nodding and laughing. Some of the conversations that Levi picked up were surprisingly mundane, gossip about other people and complaints about redevelopments in the city centre. Not for the first time, he wondered why people even bothered to get high. Then Kenny was speaking, demanding his full attention.

“Ain’t never really understood you,” he began. “But I get it now - you got a good pair of fists and a head for violence. Maybe a bit righteous for my tastes but that’s alright, brat. We’ll get that outta you after a while.” This was him at his most affectionate. Anyone who did not know him well wouldn’t be able to tell any difference. 

“Never understood you either,” Levi murmured. He took the stool opposite his uncle, who was hunching down on his own so that he could talk to Levi in a low voice. 

“Yeah, no kiddin’,” Kenny said, folding his arms. “Only one who does understand me is Uri, so don’t beat yourself up over it. We just ain’t never had anythin’ in common, me and you.” Kenny paused to light up a cigarette and the smoke from it wafted up to the already-tinted ceiling.

Levi raised an eyebrow. He didn't consider it a bad thing that he didn't understand his uncle. Much the opposite.

“Now you’ve got me thinkin’. How about you start work with me? We already got you down at the warehouse packin’, well… you’re on the special books now. When I call you, you come runnin’, hear me?”

The proposal wasn't one Levi really wanted. Keeping order amongst the rabble wasn't such a bad thing. Roughing up the ones that stole, or threatened, or beat up hookers outside his bedroom, he could handle all that. But he didn't know who Kenny's usual targets were.

"What does someone have to do to get themselves beat up?"

“Disrespect me. Maybe they insult me, maybe they don’t pay their debts up in good time, maybe they even try to lie to me about it. Or maybe they do somethin’ real dumb like try to muscle in on my business.” He took another long, slow drag of his cigarette. “So here’s what happens - I say ‘hey Levi, this asshole is tryin’ to screw me outta the 5k he owes’. So, then you say..?” He looked expectantly at his nephew.

"... I would go and... visit him." Levi probably would agree to that much. And they'd probably try to fight him, because Kenny's associates weren't soft people, and Levi didn't look particularly imposing. And when they did, there would be no moral dilemma in laying them flat. “But…”

“Right answer!” Kenny interrupted, pointing at him with an aggressive finger to emphasise the point. “You would say ‘sure Kenny, I’ll pay him a visit’ and then when you get there you pay his nose a visit with your knuckles!” He thought this was hilarious, and it was a good minute before he stopped laughing at his own words.

"_But_,” Levi said, louder this time. “If I found some pitiful wreck pleading and offering to pay, you'd want me to beat him anyway. Right?" His tone made it obvious that this was where the plan would fail.

Kenny thought about Levi’s question, raising an eyebrow as he stared at him. Weird, as always, just when he thought he had the boy sussed out he seemed to pull back. Maybe he’d learn to be tough enough, with some practise.

“Examples gotta be made,” he said firmly. “Though if they did pay up, you don’t need to do a full body work. Just a few warning thumps, so they get the message good and proper, so they’re… ya know… scared into makin’ sure they don’t do it again. It's all about the image. If I don’t seem hard, frightenin’ even, then people’ll walk all over me. You get that?”

“I… do.” Levi spoke in a wondering tone, surprised by his own answer. But he meant it. If Kenny was gentle, he’d probably be dead. The weakest people in his group always ended up at the bottom of the pile, and others would have climbed over their corpses to get to more drugs, more money, more influence. There was no-one to protect the weak in this world.

Except Uri could be pretty soft - at least Levi thought so. It seemed that weak people only survived if they had protectors. And if Levi took over some of Kenny’s duties, then he could be the protective one. And he could make decisions, instead of his uncle or whatever crackhead he would have sent in his place. It wasn’t as if Kenny would turn to pacifism without him. This just allowed Levi to have some control.

“I get it,” he said, more firmly. “But I’m not using. You know I won’t.” He figured his uncle would have no argument on this point, being only a casual user himself.

Kenny thought about it. It worked out better for him, in some ways, if the people who worked for him used as well. He could be doubly assured of their loyalty when they needed him for a supply. It was hard to find another dealer like him in this part of town; he’d made sure of that. But addicts were a pain. It wore thin when drugs were all they talked about. Plus Uri, Duran and Traute hardly ever used, even less than he did, and it made them more reliable. Never had Duran called him up to say he messed up any work because he was high last night and overslept.

“Sure, I don’t give a shit if you use or not,” he said at last, waving his hand dismissively. “You do whatever the hell you want there. You wanna try it, that’s your business. You don’t, then whatever. Long as when I call you for a job, you do it.”

Levi believed it. Kenny had plenty of opportunities to get him hooked before now. His nephew was already seventeen and only got harder to convert with every passing year.

“And workin’ for me, that gets you fringe benefits - all the girls your dick could want and no one’s gonna want to mess with you. So - you’ll do this, Levi?” He stared at him, meeting his gaze head-on as he held out his hand to shake on it. It was oddly formal, but something that Kenny insisted on doing with everyone. It made him feel like a powerful businessman doing lucrative deals, rather than a shady drug dealer talking to his nephew at a party.

Levi eyed his hand, feeling as if this was something he might come to regret. But he decided that he wasn't beholden to it. If Kenny told him to beat up a guy who was assaulting his hookers, then Levi would do it. If Kenny told him to beat up a hooker for not paying him, then he would refuse. And he would cross that bridge when he came to it, and face his uncle's wrath then. His main priority was making sure that he wouldn’t be sent to do anything he really hated, like beating up desperate junkies or acting like a pimp. Thankfully this room alone was full of other associates that Kenny could rely upon if Levi rejected him.

He hated handshakes, but Kenny would take it as a refusal of his offer. And it didn't feel like much of an 'offer' when Levi was a teenager living under his roof. More like an order. After a pause, he clasped Kenny's hand. He would consider disinfecting it once the conversation was over.

“Heh, good choice brat,” Kenny said with approval laced into his tone. “You made the right decision.” He shook his hand, hard as he could, then finished off his cigarette, stubbing it out on the arm of the chair. It left a mark, alongside many others made by past cigarettes.

“Now then,” he continued as he stood up. “You stay and enjoy the party. Get to know some people, take a girl back to your room, see if she likes the taste of tea eh.” He grinned, expecting Levi to laugh. When he didn’t he just shrugged and pulled him over to his sofa of cronies.

“You know Levi?” Kenny asked them, pointing at the short man. “My nephew.” He genuinely couldn’t remember if they had met him properly or if he’d just been some hanger-on kid that no one had paid any attention to. When Traute nodded and Dimo frowned, but then gave him a thumbs up he took that as good enough and shoved Levi towards an empty seat. “Sit down.”

The names of Kenny’s associates didn’t stick in his mind, but luckily nobody seemed to expect him to speak. Every now and then Kenny would bring Levi into the conversation, but mostly they talked about ‘work’. Silently observing, he took the chance to learn about their ‘business’, and most of it was made up of the words that ordinary adults used about ordinary work. Market, pitches, products, sellers, buyers, growth, turnover, salaries. Except the ‘product’ they kept referring to was illegal, and there was the constant pressure to avoid police and witnesses, and to make convincing cover stories.

More than once they referred to blackmail, but it seemed more frequent that people tried to blackmail Kenny with the threat of the police rather than Kenny blackmailing other people. Bribery on the other hand, seemed to come from the Ackerman side.

Levi accepted a beer bottle that one of the men handed him, though he soon wished he hadn’t. It was disgusting, but he drank it slowly, feeling as if he was being watched. Eventually he subtly left it, still half-full on the windowsill.

The night wore on, and at last Kenny sloped off, and after a line of coke forgot about keeping an eye on his nephew. Levi, bored of listening to adults talk about work, took advantage of people moving about and mingling to sneak out without notice. Or so he thought.

“Hey!” a voice called. Her high heels were clattering against one another in her hand as she held them by the straps. “You’re Levi, right? You’re leaving early… not having a good time?”

Stopping in the corridor, he turned back to face the girl. He had seen her, but couldn’t identify her at all. He nodded at his name, then chose his words carefully. _Was_ he having a good time? He was certain he’d rather have spent it alone in his room. “It’s… loud,” he said eventually.

“Way loud!” she agreed, laughing softly. “I followed you because it seemed like a good idea to get away from it.” She slurred her words, just by the slightest amount, but apart from alcohol it didn’t look like she’d taken anything else. “And because you’re the cutest guy in the room - these parties are always full of old men getting wasted.”

Levi didn’t understand why anyone would go to these parties if they didn’t like to see old men getting wasted. Maybe she was here for the drugs. That might explain why she was following him, thinking Kenny’s nephew could provide her with something, maybe even for free.

She placed her hand on his chest and smiled at him. His body tensed. She was getting very close into his personal space for a complete stranger. That usually spelled trouble, but she obviously wasn’t looking to fight.

“I’m Emi, by the way.”

“I can’t give you anything. You’ll have to ask Kenny.”

Emi tilted her head and grinned wryly at him, realising what he meant.

“I’m not looking for any of that stuff,” she said. “I just come with my friends, they seem into Kenny’s parties. But I’m into you, Levi.” She stepped closer, practically pressing herself up against his chest, an earnest look about her. “I’m curious to get to know you.”

There was an edge to her voice, an implication of what form getting to know him might take. Even in his naivete, it wasn’t lost on him. He scrutinised her, trying to figure out if he believed her or not. He looked for the warning signs he saw in others; track marks on the arms, dilated pupils, sniffing, meth scabs. She was free of those.

There was nothing for her to ‘get to know’ about him, but he knew that response would be brushed aside easily. She seemed determined; so determined as to be suspect.

“I don’t… pay for sex.” Normally he would have bluntly asked if she was a hooker, but she was close enough to punch him if he offended her, and he didn’t intend to fist fight with a drunk woman. Nor did he dare confess that he’d never had sex, paying or otherwise. She’d probably find it funny.

“This isn’t a _transaction_, honey,” Emi dismissed with a scoff. “I’m just into you, is that hard to believe?” With each word her hand slid higher up his chest and over his shoulder. “Come on, let's go upstairs? We can just talk if you like. Everyone tells me I’m a good listener.” 

Levi raised an eyebrow. “I’m not a good talker,” he countered. But he had concluded that she was halfway drunk, and nothing more than that. He lowered his suspicions.

Glancing over her shoulder, he checked that nobody was in their line of sight. He didn’t want to imagine what anyone there would say if they saw her go upstairs. After checking, he gestured towards the stairs in agreement, beckoning for her to go first.


	8. Hangover (2nd November 1997)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the party Levi is offered a job in the family business.

Emi carried her shoes out of the bedroom rather than put them on, padding down the stairs, trying to make as little noise as possible. She was struck once again by the contrast between Levi’s clean room and the rest of the house, which was in a standard level of disrepair and dust for a house where people had wild, drug-fuelled parties.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs a groaning voice called out from the living room.

“Oi Levi... get your ass in here. I need some coffee.”

Emi chuckled to herself. She was a little intimidated by Kenny, but she wanted his approval, so she put her head around the doorway. Kenny was slumped on the sofa, one hand on his forehead, looking worse for wear, clearly hungover.

“He’s upstairs, Mr Ackerman,” she said. Kenny’s bleary eyes snapped open, registering complete confusion.

“Eh?” he said. “You came from Levi’s room..?” Then he gave a gruff laugh. “Go on, get the hell out of here, woman. Go home.” He was still grinning when she scarpered, though, and he sat for a few moments feeling impressed. First the brat lays someone out, now he lays some chick. Maybe his nephew was growing into someone great after all, or at least someone he could understand.

Kenny didn’t really feel like going all the way upstairs but he also didn’t feel like his hangover could take any yelling so he made himself move, heading up to Levi’s room. He called out as he reached the top step, albeit quietly.

“Hey, Levi - about fucking time!”

Moving lethargically, Levi was now settled on the edge of the bed, half-dressed and staring vacantly out of his window. When he heard Kenny’s voice, he frantically grabbed his shirt, panic only subsiding once he realised his uncle wasn’t coming any closer.

After putting it on, he moved to lean in the doorway, arms folded. He subtly brushed down his hair with his fingers.

“How’s your head?” The grey pallor of Kenny’s face gave it away, the shadows under his eyes. He’d been up all night, drinking, taking fuck-knows-what, sleeping on the sofa.

“Its poundin’, idiot,” Kenny growled, but for him it was relatively playful and he was grinning, enjoying this chance to tease Levi. “Just like you, last night, with that girl… whatever her name was.” He laughed, then winced as it made his headache worse.  
Levi half-smirked at Kenny’s grimacing. Self-inflicted pain as always. He pointed downstairs as he moved past him in the corridor, ushering his uncle to follow. “Coffee.” He knew it was irresistible temptation, well aware of his morning-after habits.

Kenny followed, rubbing his head, taking a seat while Levi started assembling the coffee. There were signs of the party all over the house; empty bottles, damaged walls, piles of cigarettes and joints. It was a mess, but Kenny didn’t care about that and never had. Levi, on the other hand, was pointedly avoiding looking up.

“I’m impressed, you got some drive in you after all. I want you at all my parties in future - fightin’ and fuckin’. It suits you.” Kenny’s head was leaned on his hand, his vocal cords gravelly after a night of abuse.

Levi’s expression fell at the invitation, which was more like a threat to him. What had he gotten himself into? He tried to picture himself drinking with Caven and Dimo and the others, and knew that he would never enjoy it more than a quiet night alone.

“Fuck, Kenny, you know I can’t stand socialising.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively. “I know, think I haven’t been payin’ attention?” He held out his hand impatiently for his coffee, even though he could see Levi hadn’t finished making it yet. Levi made a small ‘tch’ as he swatted that demanding hand on his way to the fridge. The man was a nightmare when he had a hangover.

“It’s good for business to have you there, like a bouncer you get me? Someone pisses me off, you smack them in front of everyone and throw them out - when I send you out to collect, they’re gonna be shit scared of you already, brat.” 

Silently listening, Levi collected the milk to add to his own tea, but left the coffee black. Instead, he spooned liberal amounts of sugar into it. It must work for a hangover cure because it had been Kenny’s usual Saturday morning routine for years now.

“And the babes?” His uncle whistled through his teeth. “You won’t ever need to pay for a fuck with a reputation like that.”

At that, his nephew pulled a face. He had no intention of paying for sex, ever. _One_ girl stayed over and suddenly Kenny thought he was a sex-crazed maniac. As if Levi hadn’t spent his younger years politely ignoring the stream of mystery women coming in and out of the house.

The line about reputation was more appealing. He may not have to be heavy-handed if his name did all the work for him. “...Fine. I can do that.” He didn’t mind if he could stay upstairs, out of the way, and only be summoned in a crisis.

“Yeah, damn right you can,” Kenny said with a nod, fingertips pressing into his own temples. Levi had never had a hangover, but from the knitted brows and tired eyes, he could guess how bad the headache must be. Sitting on one of the stools, he handed over the mug of saccharine coffee.

Grasping - almost grabbing - for the cup, Kenny settled himself into the irritating waiting period when the coffee was too hot to drink. He’d feel better soon though and that thought consoled him. Parties were fun, but business had to continue and he had a lot to do. There was a delivery due that he wanted to check, and he was going to watch the game tonight with Uri so he had to be done before then, and some shitty situation always seemed to come up.

Levi kept his gaze low, focusing on his own hands and blotting out the cluttered surroundings. He would check in on Winterford later and see the state it was in, maybe stay there if it was better.

“Now tell me more about that chick from last night - what’s her name, Emma? Give me some entertainment while I wait for this fuckin’ coffee to cool. What freaky shit is she into?” 

“Emi,” Levi said with a suspicious frown. He was surprised that Kenny had even come close. He had been known to forget the name of his own girl the following morning, and his runners and sellers were frequently _‘oi, you’._ Kenny was unphased though, and mockingly reached out to ruffle Levi’s hair. 

“Little brat is growin’ up at last,” he said.

“Ah, fuck you--!” He moved away from that patronising gesture. “I’m not sharing details.”

“Eh?” Kenny said with a laugh. “Only time people won’t share details is when they either haven't done anythin’ at all, or when they’re embarrassed because it was too damn kinky. So which is it?” He tapped his fingers on the side of the mug, smirking at Levi, then added as if it would somehow be an enticing deal; “Go on, and then I’ll tell ya about the time I got with a girl who had all these piercings, all… everywhere.” He whistled through his teeth and his eyes went glassy for a moment, reliving some of the sordid memories.

Levi visibly cringed. He would rather be spared those mental images. “Fucking gross,” he muttered.

He peered over Kenny’s shoulder, eager for a change of subject. “Everyone made it home, huh.” It wasn’t unusual to find one of Kenny’s associates still asleep on the sofa in the early hours the next morning.

Kenny shook his head, disappointed that Levi wouldn’t tell him anything. Bragging and sharing stories of sexual exploits was just what his friends did; maybe after a while Levi would get it and learn to fit in.

“Yeah, no one’s stayed over,” he answered. “They all pissed off home, or wherever. Even Duran, and he was fucked. Staggered his way out.” He grinned at the memory, then gave Levi a meaningful look. “So if you’re askin’ will you have the house to yourself for a while, the answer’s yeah. You can have some fun. For most’ve us, that’d be more fuckin’, but for you that’s what - cleanin’ right? What the hell _do_ you do?”

He really had no idea and had never bothered to ask before. Sometimes it seemed like he’d not noticed Levi since whatever age he’d still played with plastic toys. He could remember being in the house just making a few phone calls, when he felt a tug on his sleeve. He’d looked down and there was Levi, showing him a picture of some toy he wanted, some bright coloured toy truck or chunky electronic game machine or something. Kenny would just tut and shove a handful of notes into his hands, telling him to piss off and get it himself if he wanted it so badly. For a moment the brat had looked amazed, then he’d run off, presumably before Kenny could change his mind. He could have sworn the last thing he’d really noticed Levi doing was sitting on the sofa surrounded by some playset.

Levi didn’t resist the urge to roll his eyes. Kenny would notice if he stopped cleaning. The house would be buried under empty bottles and ashtrays within a month.

“I don’t know,” he murmured. His uncle didn’t really want an answer anyway. “Not _just_ cleaning.”

Kenny rolled his eyes right back as he took a cautionary sip of the coffee. His nephew was an odd one, but he was assured remembering the mess he’d made of Nate last night. Hobbies didn’t matter when he could do that.

“Hey, what we talked about,” he said. “I meant it. I want you to come into the business, when I need someone...intimidatin’.” He waved his hand, dismissing what he thought Levi would object to. “And I know, I know - you only wanna beat up shits who deserve it. Just happens there’s someone who’s been causin’ me trouble - Deltoff, you remember him yeah?” 

It took a second, but Levi did remember Deltoff. Big guy, dirty-blond hair, about Kenny’s age. “He’s been stringin’ me along, like he’s gonna pay, but so far all its been is lies.” Kenny was confident that Deltoff fit the bill, and he hoped Levi would go for it; the guy was known for being violent, which was one of the reasons Kenny had trouble collecting from him. It’d be a good test of his nephew.

Levi saw Deltoff at the warehouses a lot, taking merch to sell. From the sounds of things he wasn’t paying for it. “How much are we talking? And for how long?”

“Started as a few hundred,” Kenny replied with a frown. “Back in March, and since then its been gettin’ higher.” That settled it; if Deltoff was racking up a debt and had been given a fair chance to pay, Levi had no issues with squeezing him to get the rest.

“No one wants to deal with the fucker - either when he comes to get shit or when I tell ‘em I want him takin’ to task. I called him myself a couple times, gave me a string of shitty excuses every godamn time. He needs to pay up, or be shown some consequences. You get that, Levi? A guy like me can’t run a business if people aren't scared to cross me. Your fists could do a lot of good.” Kenny glanced at Levi’s knuckles, faintly red and bruised.

“Fine.” He was willing to give it a try. Deltoff qualified as _asking for it_, and Levi already knew that Kenny paid better for these things than he did for warehouse work. There wasn’t much that he wanted to buy, but it couldn’t hurt to set himself up. He was hoping to move out sooner or later, after all.

“Good,” Kenny said, talking into his mug as he took another swig.

“You want me to rearrange his face unless he has _all_ the money on demand,” Levi clarified.

“Yeah - all of it. I don’t want to hear any shit about part payments, instalments, blah blah… he’s done that crap before, paid just enough to keep me off his back.” He narrowed his eyes. “No more games - if he doesn’t have every last fuckin’ penny, you...” He gestured to Levi’s fists.

Levi followed Kenny’s gaze, examining his own knuckles and the evidence of last night’s fight. Sometimes he thought Kenny forgot he was only a teenager. He’d never struggled to defend himself, but he was still small and slender, and he knew Deltoff outmatched him on size. He wasn’t afraid to go and do Kenny’s job for him. He had already held his own whenever the situation had called for it, even if the other guy was bigger. But still, he wondered what his uncle would do if he got in a fight and lost. Just how disappointed would he be?

“And you’re not backin’ out, not gonna get there and change your mind?” Kenny asked. Levi was still an unknown quantity. He didn’t have confidence that the kid wouldn’t have a change of heart, or take pity on Deltoff if he fed him some sob story.

“You said he’s asking for it.” Levi said it as if it settled the matter. In his mind, it did.


	9. Accidental Death (17th March 1998)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When an associate dies, Kenny calls Levi for help in rearranging the scene.

"Answer the damn phone," Kenny grumbled impatiently, agitated, when not even one ring had gone by. His leg was trembling and he kept pulling on his hair. He couldn’t remember when he’d last felt like this, this overwhelming panic. He was pacing back and forth on the faded rug, hands trembling with pent-up energy, wanting to act but not sure what to do.

Finally, after what felt like an age, the phone connected and he didn't wait for Levi to speak before he began.

"Oi! Get your ass over here right now, hear me?” he said. “I got a body here and I don't want any questions, I don’t want any lip - just _get over here._"

"Shut the fuck up, Kenny," Levi murmured. He'd been falling asleep in his armchair, and was still semi-conscious.

Then his eyes widened and he sat upright. "Body?"

His uncle sounded panicked. Flustered. He wasn't always the calm and collected type, but he usually geared between spitting rage and not giving a fuck. This was different.

"What did you do?" He started grabbing for his shoes and his jacket one-handed while still clutching the phone.

"I didn't do anythin’, alright," Kenny fumed. "It was an accident!"

He looked down at the prone figure of Antoine on the floor, and kicked him in the ribs. Why the fuck did he have to do that eh, why did he have to make him so angry, if he'd just kept his damn mouth shut...

"Where's 'here'?" Levi’s voice crackled through the phone.

"The den on, uh…” His fingers clutched at his hair, tugging. “On Kingfisher. Just get here, _now_."

Levi glowered at the phone then hung up on him. _Motherfucker._ As if he was going to be able to get rid of a body and not get caught.

Luckily he remembered the flat. The group met there relatively often, even if Levi didn’t usually show. It wasn't far. He sifted through his memory trying to remember who lived there, and who it was that Kenny might have killed.

Closing the front door quietly, he kept his head down and walked fast, not wanting to draw attention. It was the early hours of the morning, pitch black, and the last thing he needed was some neighbourhood watch type spotting him. Especially if this was investigated. How could Kenny be so _stupid?_

When he saw the battered front door of the familiar house, he hesitated briefly, not wanting to knock too loud and wake the neighbours at 4am. Then suddenly it swung open and Kenny grabbed a fistful of his shirt, pulling him in and closing the door behind him.

Levi shoved back, the two standing opposite in a dark, narrow hallway. "What the fuck did you do?" he whispered.

Kenny rounded on his nephew. He might be relieved to see him but he was too agitated to show it.

"I told ya," he growled. "An _accident_." He reached out his hand to shove Levi's shoulder. "Don't be askin’ me stupid questions brat, just get in here."

Without waiting he turned to the living room. Levi clenched his fists, but stopped when Kenny left. This was the priority now. He wanted to know how much trouble they were in.

The place smelt strongly of cigarettes, the smoke seeming to permeate the flocked wallpaper and the dark orange carpet. Beside the threadbare couch was a sprawled-out corpse with blood-stained hair. Kenny looked down at it, then back up at Levi.

"Well?" he demanded, as if it was obvious what should be done. Truth was he didn't have a clue, but pretending had never done him any harm yet. "Get on with it!"

There was silence after Kenny's order, during which Levi stared at the body. He was definitely dead. Levi vaguely recognised him, but only as the recipient of various messages or parcels from Kenny.

He was getting sick of his uncle's denials. "What _happened?_" Kenny was playing dumb but Levi stood no chance of dealing with this when he had zero information. Getting no response, he took a step closer to the body. The man was face down, head tilted forward. There was blood matting his hair already. Levi pointed down. "He hit his head?"

"Yeah, idiot," Kenny snapped. "You can see that! What a dumbass eh?" He folded his arms, his heart slowing to a steady pace again now he had Levi here to take the brunt of the responsibility. "It was his own fault, but we gotta do somethin’ or they'll be after me." He paused. "And you. So fix it."

He glared at his uncle again. Now it was obvious that Kenny hit his head. But it was plausible that he had fallen, from the injury and the position of the body. If he thought it, the police might think it.

The idea of calling the police crossed his mind, but he despised anything to do with them. As stupid as his uncle had been, he didn’t really want to see him in a jail cell. That’s if the police even got the right person. Levi would probably be in as much trouble as Kenny.

Whatever time he had left was fast evaporating.

Staring down at the body, Kenny’s mind was in turmoil. All he could picture was the police hauling his ass to prison, wearing one of those shitty jumpsuits, being trapped behind bars, everyday a monotony. All because Antoine couldn’t keep his lip from flapping off about shit he didn’t understand. One minute they’d been having a good time, popping a few uppers, then the next… this nightmare. With a petulant scowl, Kenny kicked his corpse in the ribs again. Fuck this guy.

Levi scowled as Kenny attacked the body again. He grabbed a fistful of the back of Kenny’s shirt, yanking him away from the body, hissing furiously. "Idiot. You want them to find your footprints on his chest?"

Kenny glared right back at Levi. _Insolent little… _ But for once a cool head prevailed. He needed Levi to help sort out this mess, so he held his tongue.

"Show me what you hit him with, and get whatever gear you've got left on you," Levi said, not playing along with this charade of accidental death anymore.

"Psh, fine," Kenny muttered and pointed to a heavy metal lamp. "He hit his head on that thing. That'll teach him to buy it eh."

Almost in a daze, Levi grabbed a towel from the kitchen, using it to cover his right hand. Then he took the lamp, slowly coiling its wire around the dead man's wrist, before laying it sideways on the ground. Still using the towel, he took the small table from the corner of the room, lying it on its side to indicate that the lamp had been pulled off it.

He planned to tell Kenny to shoot the guy up with something, but he could feel no body heat through the towel. They had been too slow, and the blood was stagnant. If there was an autopsy, it'd be clear he had been injected after death. It wasn't worth the risk.

"Leave an empty bag somewhere. Make it look like he took something."

His uncle went into the hallway, muttering a panicked stream of consciousness as he ransacked the pockets of his own trenchcoat, looking for a bag. Meanwhile, Levi plucked up the courage to do what he had to do. It was Kenny's mess, and he was half-tempted to hand it over, but Kenny would be overzealous with it.

He mouthed an apology, before pinching the guy's nose with his towel-covered hand, and crashing his head one last time into the lamp. Just enough to leave blood and skin on the corner. The thud was sickening, and now Levi wanted out.

He stood up, slightly pale, holding it together, and kicked back a corner of the rug, forcing it into a concertina. Surveying his own work, he hoped it would do. It could plausibly look like a crackhead had tripped on his own rug and brained himself on a lamp, yanking it out of the wall and knocking the table over.

Levi had never planned to kill or participate in a kill. But if Kenny got caught, he would take everyone down with him. Or they'd ransack his house and Levi would be dead to rights, along with everyone else in his operation. It was a matter of survival. And Kenny would surely never take the risk again. A hapless accident like this wouldn't be convincing more than once.

"Heh, good thinking," Kenny remarked once Levi was done, a genuinely impressed look on his face. "You do have a brain in there after all. Knew I could count on you! Of course, you learnt from the best right?" He thumped Levi in the chest; not hard, but hard enough to feel like a warning.

Levi looked up at his uncle, teeth gritted. It wasn't the punch but the words. Considering he just killed someone, he was taking it pretty lightly.

He bundled the towel into a ball. "I'll get rid of this. You get out of here." He waited, as if expecting an argument. They were almost guaranteed when Kenny was around.

"And spare me the big man talk," he added with a scowl, stepping back. He didn't like anyone invading his personal space at the best of times, let alone Kenny, and even less now that he was a murderer. Protesting the immorality of murder would have gotten him nowhere, so he appealed to Kenny’s sense of self-preservation.

"We could have gone down for this. Control your temper." It was dangerous telling Kenny what to do, even when it was common fucking sense. But equally dangerous to let him go on believing he could throw his weight around, as if murders were easily cleaned up.

"Shut your mouth, boy," Kenny replied with a growling tone. "Don't you tell me what could or couldn't have happened." His eyes were full of fury as he stared at Levi. He knew how close a call this was, he didn’t need to be told. “Show more goddamn respect to the man who raised ya.”

Even if Levi wanted to hit Kenny, he couldn't. They'd just get into a brawl - another one. And then their blood would be all over this suspicious-looking crime scene. He decided to hold his tongue. It felt like his uncle was an expert at picking fights when Levi couldn't do anything to respond.

Still. He wasn't going to feign gratitude for anything Kenny had given him. It wasn't much to speak of, and he had ulterior motives anyway.

"Let's just go," he said. "If the police call, we'll deal with it then." Kenny probably had lawyers and alibis on speed dial anyway. Levi wished he were that lucky.

"Fine," Kenny said flatly, and shoved Levi towards the door and out into the street, eager to get out of the house. “Car’s around the back.”

Levi walked ahead in the dark. He couldn’t stand the idea of getting in the car and going back to sleep in that house. Denham was probably cleared out, he had no belongings with him and could probably only sleep on the floor there at best, but…

He stopped at the garden gate, opposite his uncle. “No. You go.”

Kenny gave him a slightly curious expression, then turned away and walked fast down the back alley. The kid was shaken, but he wasn’t a snitch. Wherever he was going, it wasn’t the station.

\--------

It was a week later when he heard through his network of contacts that he was in the clear, that the police had closed the case, declared it an accident. He almost laughed, relieved, and exhilarated. He pulled out his phone and dialed.

"Levi!" he said cheerfully. "We did it. Just heard. Got away with it. Fine work we did there eh? Maybe I should rent you out for it to some of my buddies when they get into trouble."

Levi didn't have to ask what it was about. It had been on his mind since the night in question, every phone call putting him on edge, fearing police officers at every knock of the door. He was no stranger to law enforcement, but this was different. He didn't like the part he'd played in this death.

"Don't make a habit of it," he said, half-pleading. "We got lucky."

"Bah!" Kenny said with a laugh. "Lucky! No, we outsmarted those lazy pigs, Levi. Celebrate! Buy yourself some new tea, or… whatever the fuck your vice is." He was crowing at the success, relieved to be in the clear.

It was a good thing Kenny couldn’t see him, because Levi's face showed disgust at that laughter. His uncle was an unhinged motherfucker. At least once a month he questioned whether they were really blood-related, and at least once a week he wished they weren't.

"So how about it? Wanna move up in the business? You could clean up big if you can keep people outta jail..."

"No," Levi said shortly. His tone was even sharper because, for the first time, he was seeing the weight of Kenny’s crimes. This direct murder made him wonder how many indirect deaths his uncle had also caused. "I don't know the first thing about forensics."

"Ah come on, you can learn," Kenny urged, but he shrugged, knowing when it came to Levi there was no use arguing.

It was obvious that the police hadn't put much effort into this investigation. They weren't going to waste money on autopsies for every drunk or addict, and Kenny's unfortunate victim had been a wastrel with his own shady past. But their scenario might have fallen apart in the face of robust forensic investigation. Levi didn't want Kenny thinking he could go around making them all look like accidents. A mysterious spate of lamp-related deaths would get the cops' attention. How best to explain that to his erratic uncle?

"This isn't the sort of thing you can get away with repeatedly," he tried to explain. "Just a fingerprint out of place would fuck us up."

"Fine, fine. You don't want to earn stacks, that's your funeral. Anyway, I said, it was an accident. Whatever." He was in too good of a mood to let Levi's refusal to do the sensible thing bring him down. “I get it though, alright? It’s risky, but I ain’t makin’ a habit of this. Calm your ass down.”

"Alright,” Levi said eventually, hoping that was the truth of it. “See you at work.”

He hung up, then slumped back at his desk again. It was a relief, but deeply unsettling. A man was dead, a victim to his uncle’s temper, and yet the two of them would live on as if nothing had happened. Antoine Lang had been no saint, but Levi couldn’t shake the feeling that his death had been undeserved, undignified, and completely unnecessary.


	10. Drizzle Ditch (8th July 1998)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny gets robbed by one of his girls and Levi is forced into helping dispose of the body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are back! Thank you for being so patient - we've been delayed updating because Mercury_Rising has been busy studying really hard towards his Masters (and I'm super proud of how amazing he's doing). But we are still making progress with the fic. :)
> 
> -ClarissaNotFound

For once, Levi had been in a deep sleep. Following several nights of bad insomnia, he had all but passed out from exhaustion. He hazily awoke to the sound of high-pitched shrieks of laughter, the slam of the door, the low baritone of Kenny's voice and the tripping of feet up the stairs.

Groaning, he put a pillow over his head, turned over, and curled up under the covers. It wasn't long before he was sleeping again.

The next time he awoke, half-stupefied, he thought the woman was laughing again. Then he realised that she was screaming.

He threw the blankets off, stumbling through the dark room out into the corridor. The bright lights of the hallway assaulted him as soon as he threw the door open, making him squint. Hazily, he saw his uncle's tall form rise and turn towards him, blood smeared down his white t-shirt. Levi's eyes tracked down towards the floor, where a blood-stained body lay, red seeping into the carpets from her throat.

Horror-struck, he whispered. "What have you done?" It was an expression of shock, not a real question, but Kenny answered anyway.

"Bitch tried to run out on me," he said, his dripping knife still in hand as he snatched the small leather purse from the woman's mottled fingers.

For a second, Levi considered going back in his room and slamming the door shut, maybe even calling the police. He was here in the corridor with a murder victim and a murderer, still armed and dangerous, probably high, always unpredictable. But he had to check if the woman could be saved.

Levi walked forward, hands trembling as he pushed Kenny aside. “Leave her, idiot, she’s past it,” Kenny snapped, and he was right. Levi gingerly lifted her wet hair, but her eyes were wide open and glassy, and she had multiple wounds, one of which was obviously fatal. She was beyond help.

Levi looked up at his uncle, hatred in his eyes, slowly standing to face him. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

“What’s wrong with _her_, you mean! She was doin’ a runner with my cash, cards, every fuckin’ thing she could fit in here!” He waved his hands, specks of blood flying off the knife. The purse swung from his clenched fist, nearly hitting Levi. He shielded his face, mind blank.

_She's dead_, he thought silently, over and over. _She's dead, she's dead, she's dead._ For the sake of cash. He knew who she was; Faye something. One of Kenny's regulars. A user, a buyer, a... a body.

"You are insane," he said finally. "Murderer."

“Yeah?” Kenny sneered at the insult. “Well she was a thief! After everythin’ I did for the skank.” His tone clearly told that he wasn’t sorry for what he’d done. In fact the only thing he was sorry about right now was the state of the floor. He looked at the blood that was soaking the carpet under his feet and he made a tut of annoyance. “Even in death she’s still pissin’ me off. Look at this shit.” 

Levi barely heard a word. It crossed his mind that Kenny could attack him, and he didn't have his knife since he had rushed out here without it. But he was contemplating his next move. If he called the police, he would be found here, covered in her blood. Kenny would be quick to get an alibi, and Levi wouldn't. The prospect of life in prison was staring him in the face and he was shaken by it.

He approached Kenny, holding out his own bloody hand. "Give me the knife." He saw the suspicion on his uncle's face. "To clean," he clarified.

After the reassurance, Kenny handed over the knife. “Yeah, sure, sure,” he said, sounding dismissive though his heart was racing with worry. She really had made a right mess, and there were even spots of blood on Levi now, and it was in his own house. What the fuck were they going to do with the body…

“Hurry the fuck up,” said Kenny. “I want it outta here without makin’ even more mess. Think it’d fit in a bin bag? We’ll take it out somewhere, burn it...”

“Is there a brain in that skull of yours?” Levi muttered as he left with the knife, rinsing it under the bathroom tap. The water ran red, then pink, then mercifully clear. Levi caught sight of his eyes in the small mirror - just his eyes. It was placed too high for him to see the rest of his face. They looked as wild as he felt, stricken with an emotion that wasn’t quite fear or guilt but a mix of the pair.

While Levi was gone, Kenny searched the woman’s purse, pulling out the cash and his credit card and a bag of coke. For good measure, and by way of compensating for the damage to his carpet, he also took her own money out as well.

“You can’t burn her,” Levi continued as he re-entered the hallway, shaking his head. That would never work. The body would be found and evidence would be picked out somehow. How were they even supposed to get her out of the house without someone noticing?

Some mad part of him had hoped that she would be gone when he came out, but the body lay there, the blood only spreading. He couldn’t help silently bargaining with wishful thinking. If only he had insisted Kenny leave last night, if only he could have known, if only he could somehow have warned her…

“We need to get her out of here, but… how…” he mused, speaking more to himself than Kenny.

“And why the hell can’t we burn it eh? Then it’ll be gone!”

“Burning just leaves bones,” Levi said, waving a hand. It was hard to think while he was listening to Kenny rattling off bad ideas.

Kenny started impatiently tapping his foot, running his fingers through his hair. “Roll it in a carpet? I don’t fuckin’ know.”

Levi stared at his uncle, incredulous. Had he been watching old Mafia movies? Although he was never going to agree to the idea, the comment did make him look at the stained floor. This would all need to be ripped up and replaced, but first things first.

“Call someone,” he said eventually. “One trustworthy person. We’re going to need help.”

“Fine, whatever!” Kenny fumed, and he grabbed his phone, bringing up the number under ‘Jackson (Dentist)’. When Duran’s voicemail clicked in, Kenny immediately started talking.

“Wake the fuck up you lazy prick and get your ass to Winterford _right_ now! Tch!” he said, glancing down at the body again as he hung up. Duran was reliable and strong, two traits he needed right now. For now he turned back to Levi, his expression expectant.

“Well? Go on then, how we gettin’ rid of this body?”

“Shut up. Let me think.” Levi leaned against the wall, whittling down his options. They’d have to hide or dispose of the knife, get rid of their clothes, repaint the walls, and throw out these carpets. Washing the clothes might work, but he had been stuck using launderettes since their washing machine had been kicked and busted during some party. Kenny swore it was a friend, but didn’t know which one, which meant it was probably him. But he had never replaced the machine, and Levi didn’t intend to walk into a public place with bloodstained clothes. He was no expert on forensics, anyway. It was probably safer to burn them.

It crossed his mind that near the warehouses, there was an old stretch of grass, fenced-off, along the train tracks. He recalled seeing it whenever he went to work, because it grossed him out. Entire sofas had been ditched there, turning mouldier with every passing day. Discarded paper cups that started out bright blue eventually faded to grey. Heaps of paper that eventually turned to mush after a few days’ rain. The whole place obviously had no upkeep. But that wasn’t to say that a bloody rolled-up carpet wouldn’t be noticed.

The two trains of thought collided in his mind. “Washing machine,” he said, looking up. Kenny’s expression indicated that he thought Levi had lost his mind. He hesitated, one last chance to think of something better, but this was all he had to offer.

“The broken one. We can hide her there, leave it on Drizzle Ditch.” He said it quietly, glancing aside at the body. It was a dishonourable fate for a person.

“Hide it in the washin’ machine?” Kenny echoed, pulling a doubtful expression, imagining trying to stuff a body into the drum. Then he realised what Levi meant. “Like take out the insides? Not a bad idea. Who’d notice a shitty old abandoned washin’ machine!” He laughed, a sound of sheer relief, no such thoughts of dishonour running through his head.

“Fine, we’ll get it and… stuff the body in it,” he said, as if it had been all his idea. He grabbed Levi by the arm with a bloodied hand and pulled him in that direction.

Levi grimaced and snatched Kenny’s hand away from him. “Get the fuck off me,” he muttered, half wanting to avoid bloody fingerprints on his shirt, and half wanting to avoid his murderous relative.

He still followed, pulling another face at the sight of the house. Kenny and his friends had wrecked it last night. Faye had probably been one of them. Drinking. Cackling. Flirting. Sleeping. _Breathing._

The machine was sitting under the grimy countertops still covered in empty bags, bottles and liquid spills. 

“I’ll… dismantle it,” Levi said, half in a daze, grateful for Kenny’s silence. He searched through the kitchen drawer that seemed to contain anything that had no place - elastic bands, scissors, batteries, pens. Among the debris he found a screwdriver.

The task itself didn’t take long. The drum was already hanging loose, so he removed the long screws in the corners, lifting out the machine’s heavy internal organs. Kenny paced up and down, checking his phone repeatedly.

“What time is it?”

“Four am,” Kenny grunted back.

“Hn.” There was a silence. “Did Duran call yet?”

“Nope… probably out for the count.”

Levi hauled the rest of the machinery out, at which point Kenny came forward to help him without being prompted. It was a sure sign that he must have been keen to get rid of the body, even if he acted like he didn’t give a fuck.

They set it down with a heavy thud. There was adequate space in there, and the top could be screwed back on. Levi closed the machine door. It was transparent enough that someone might get suspicious. “We’ll have to cover that,” he said, tapping it. “With mud or grime. Something natural-looking.”

He yawned. Underneath the terror, he was still exhausted, and wanted nothing more than to sleep and wake to realise this was just another lucid nightmare.

“Clean up,” he said, gesturing at Kenny’s stained shirt. “You and Duran can move her when he calls you.” He had no intention of doing that bit of the job. He could barely look at the body in the hallway without being seized with a crippling guilt, and it was beyond comprehension that his uncle didn’t feel the same.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” Kenny growled with a dangerous edge, but his eyes were sulky and tired. “You’re not goin’ anywhere, you’re gonna stay and move it with us… ” 

“Like fuck I am.” Levi was adamant. He was concerned with the dangerous nonchalance that Kenny was showing towards the lives of others now. First Lang, now this. Levi had been trapped into helping this time, but he would not do it again.

Kenny could tell his nephew had had enough, and he didn’t have the energy anymore to fight with him. He sighed, but he wasn’t going to concede out loud to Levi, so he just folded his arms and glared at him.

“What about the rest of this shit?” he demanded instead. “The carpets and… everythin’. Shove them in the machine too?” Thinking about the mess that had been made he was starting to have some regrets. The effort of cleanup wasn’t quite worth the satisfaction of seeing the thieving bitch get what she deserved.

“We’ll have to rip up the carpets and…” Levi mulled it over. Was it possible to clean floorboards? “Bleach the wood? I don’t fucking know.” He was annoyed at Kenny’s questioning, as if he should have the answers, when _he_ wasn’t the one stupid or callous enough to knife someone in their own house.

“When Duran calls, put her in here.”

He left, looking down at his white hands as he walked towards the stairs. Don’t look. Don’t look. Don’tlookdon’tlook_don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook_

But he did, just to see if this was real, somehow expecting to see plain carpets or a bloodstain with no owner. He had no such luck. The pale, marred corpse still lay there in the centre of the hallway. This whole surreal affair felt like fiction, but the sight of it - of _her_ \- broke the strange spell.

He tiptoed past her, subconsciously holding his breath, and closed his bedroom door behind him. Shaking, he lay on the bed, awake all night. The sun slowly crept up, shining translucent through his cheap, flimsy curtains. It must have been a few hours, but it felt like no time at all before he heard sounds again. 

The knock at the door must have been Duran rather than the police, because soon enough, two low mumbling voices were talking in the corridor. Levi cringed and tried not to think of what they were doing, carrying her to an unworthy resting place. It wasn’t that Levi couldn’t handle death or violence. But he hated it.

Then Kenny was hollering his name from downstairs. Like a zombie, he opened the door. She was gone, but the stain remained. 

He edged around the sprawling red blotches, creeping down the stairs carefully. The washing machine drum was still in the kitchen, with the machine itself ominously sitting behind them. Kenny was smoking a cigarette. Levi wanted to punch him for it. Duran merely nodded at him, which he ignored. They were not on this joint enterprise together. He was not going to be treated as a co-conspirator.

“Did you wrap her in something?” he said to Duran, doubting that his temper could sustain a conversation with his uncle right now.

“Yeah. Plastic tarp. Stuck some over the front too--”

The man pointed, and Levi saw that the front clear window of the machine was now covered in a greyish lining. It would work. He couldn’t think about what was behind that screen.

“Drizzle Ditch,” he said. “Nobody ever looks there.”

Kenny let Levi and Duran blather on about the details. The cigarette in his hand was shaking slightly and he was irritated by it, and by how moving the body had made him feel. When he’d first felt the blade slide through her skin and the blood pour from her, it had been such a thrill, just like with Lang, but somehow even better. But then he hadn’t really had to touch him, and he’d been all neatly laid on the floor, any blood only staining surfaces he didn’t have to worry about. Here, in his own place, he’d made such a mess, without really thinking, and the body had been cold and stiff. Moving it had been a nightmare, and there was something grim about stuffing a person into a washing machine like that. 

To hide how affected he was, he’d decided just to sit there in silence, but then he saw Levi turn to go and his already thin temper frayed.

“Where the hell do you think you’re goin’? Get your ass back in here. You’re a part of this clusterfuck now, and you’re gonna help clean up, and you’re gonna help us move the machine tonight. Understood? Thought you loved cleanin’ so much, now you got a chance at it you’re fuckin’ off?”

Levi’s last nerve snapped. He turned, hands balled into fists, approaching Kenny with hatred storming across his face.

“You did this. _You_. For money, and sex, and… and --” He grabbed the nearest bag, stuffed full of miscellaneous pills, flinging them at Kenny as hard as he could. “--and this _shit!_” 

The weak plastic bag ruptured as it hit Kenny’s shoulder, pills rattling everywhere across the tiled floor, scattering all around them. Kenny stared at Levi. His nephew had gone mad.

They were silent for a moment, the only noise the click and clatter of the pills against the linoleum floor. Then Duran jumped to attention, stepping between them with a droning “Woah, woah, hold on--” He was holding a hand out in each direction. He wasn’t intervening, but if it came to blows, he would. And not on Levi’s side, either. This intervention, Duran standing between them, was the only thing stopping Kenny from launching straight at Levi and trying to slam his face onto the floor alongside the pills.

“Fucker!” he yelled instead. “You know how much those are worth?! Eh? I killed this bitch-” He gestured furiously at the washing machine. “-For stealin’, you think I won’t paste you into the ground?” Caution over yelling about murder was overshadowed by his fury, and the rush of power that came from threatening him.

Levi was bewildered by the sudden emotion. _Worth?_ Always talking in terms of price. Whatever they were worth, it wasn’t more than a whole life. A whole person. Never mind that she was a drug addict and a streetwalker or that Levi had found her so annoying. It wasn’t a death sentence. Stealing some cash wasn’t a death sentence. _This_ was what made his uncle finally snap?

“Then pick them up,” he whispered viciously, shoving Duran’s hand off of him and turning to leave.

“Oi!” Kenny called after him, this time pushing past Duran to grab Levi’s arm. “You’re not goin’ _anywhere_ today! Not until we got this place cleaned and the body gone.” He only had to glance at Duran and the man stepped between Levi and the kitchen door, arms folded. “Now get us all that cleanin’ shit of yours, we got stuff to do.”

“I didn’t kill her.” He wrenched his arm out of Kenny’s grip without turning to look at him, eyes venomous as he glared at Duran. If the idiot knew what was good for him, he’d get out of his way.

“I will tear up the carpets,” he said, only because it mattered to him. “But the body is your problem.” He wanted them to take the machine just to get it out of the house, and Kenny out of his sight. If he never saw his uncle again, it would be too soon.


	11. Separate Ways (15th January 1999)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi quits working for Kenny.

Kenny had been working all morning, which meant he’d been sat in his office at the warehouse getting more and more irritated by the list of people who owed him money. _Waltz, fucking Waltz again! What was with this guy?_ From the start he’d always been a minor annoyance, never had quite the right amount or always just a few days behind payments – at least until recently. Then he’d started to slip behind on payments again, until Kenny was worked up enough to send Levi’s fists into action. Which had done the trick. Or so he’d thought.

With an irritated sigh, Kenny pulled the phone closer and dialled.

Across town, Levi scowled at the phone for interrupting his peace. He knew it could only be one person.

“I’ve got a job for ya,” Kenny told him as he rubbed his temple. “Waltz, remember him? He’s pissin’ me around again. You know what to do.”

Levi remembered dealing with Waltz before. One of Kenny's typical buyers, he was always trying to borrow a little more until the boundaries were set down. The first time, Levi hadn't even hit him. He'd just paid up. The second time, he got pushy, but backed down after one punch. The third time, there had been some shoving and pushing, and he'd apparently settled up with Kenny the next day. 

But that was then, and this was now. Levi had refused Kenny's last two jobs and he didn't intend to take any more.

"No," he said eventually with some trepidation, awaiting the onslaught.

Kenny blinked, blindsided by that response. None of the previous refusals had bothered him especially; he’d been bound to come up against Levi’s weird moralistic standard at times, so he shrugged it off and found someone less discerning about who they hurt. This though? This was baffling. For a moment he thought he must have heard him wrong.

“Eh?” he said at last. “What’d you mean, no? I sent you to see to Waltz before so what’s the fuckin’ problem now?” Usually when people acted like this they wanted more money but that didn’t seem like a good fit for his nephew, so Kenny was completely confused.

The _fucking problem_, Levi thought, was the blood on Kenny's hands. He couldn't forget about it. Although he had still gone to work in Kenny's warehouse every day, that was the limit. It was easy work, he never had to see his uncle, and he could work alone without having to deal with people.

But the violent side work had all stopped since Faye's death. He had wondered several times if Lang's death had been equally bad. He'd always imagined Kenny losing his temper in a sudden crime of passion, but who knew anymore. Levi hadn't witnessed it, and the second murder had been inexcusable. Maybe his uncle really was just a psychopath.

"I'm not doing that anymore," Levi said bluntly, fingers toying with the zip of his sleeping bag, laid out in the living room of Winterford Avenue. With his uncle occupying the other house, this one was practically empty. Without ever explaining his intentions, Levi had been taking himself to wherever Kenny was not.

"Don't be stupid," Kenny scoffed. "If this is a joke, you're not makin' me fuckin' laugh. Beatin' up scumbags suits you Levi, why'd you want to quit eh?" His tone grew more demanding as he continued to speak, fingers gripping the phone tightly. Not that he didn't have anyone else apart from Levi but fuck, he hated people thinking they could mess him around like this. Was it so much to ask for people to just do their job?

"It's not a fucking joke and I'm not doing it anymore." Levi's tone became sharper. It was worth being here to avoid seeing Kenny and his associates, but his imagination still ran wild. It was as if he could still see shadows of himself and Kenny and Duran moving around. He imagined that the washing machine was still sitting in the kitchen, dreamed that the blood sank through the ceiling and rained down on him. The crime committed in this house screamed at him for justice when it was quiet, even though all of the evidence was long gone.

"Ask someone else. ... I have to go." He hung up.

Hearing the receiver click off, Kenny's temper got the better of him. He yanked the phone even closer to him and dialed, and the second the ringing stopped he launched into a rant. Levi didn’t manage to get a word out before it began. He held the phone at a slight distance. The yelling voice was still loud enough to hear every word.

"Listen here you little shit, I'm tellin' you - and you're gonna do it, hear me? You think you can just quit?”

"Yeah... I do think that. I quit--"

“I don’t think so! I got jobs needs doin'. Now I was nice enough to give you a fuckin' break, remember eh? Remember when you said you'd got some principles, and I said yeah sure Levi, I'll respect your dumbass fuckin' moral code? And ya remember when I didn't cause a fuss? Well now I'm causin' a fuss because you're pissin' me off. You tell me what the problem is! And if you hang up on me again I'll have someone over there to beat _your_ sorry ass!" 

Levi closed his eyes with a tired sigh. He wasn't afraid that Kenny would send someone. It might happen but he could defend himself. Kenny, on the other hand, was racking his brains to think of what could have happened, and came up with nothing. As far as he knew Levi just came to work, hid away in whatever house was less noisy and occasionally threatened someone for him.

“_Well?!_”

"I'm sick of it," Levi said. It was a muted version of the truth. He wanted to tell his uncle to do his own dirty work, but he had no job and no house except whatever Kenny offered, so he couldn't afford to cut ties completely. Not yet, anyway.

"Sick of what?" Kenny demanded, throwing his free hand in the air in frustration. "Gettin' paid good money to thump a few lowlifes in the face now and then?”

"Yeah, you fucking lunatic," Levi cut in, but Kenny was relentless.

“Fuck, you ungrateful little shit. What exactly are you sayin' is the problem eh? I only send you to beat up the worst guys, I pay you for it, so come on Levi - what about this deal has got you so fuckin' riled up? You better start talkin’ some sense to me - now!”

"I'm sick of the... violence." Levi was simplifying. Violence wasn't always a struggle. But he was sick of the nature of it, walking into the squalid lives of desperate people just to inflict more damage. Waltz could be a thug, but Levi had never seen him cut someone's throat and let them bleed out. His uncle had definitely become the greater of two evils.

"Violence is part of life - part of business!” Kenny frowned down the phone and the expression made it into his tone. “You should know that by now. I ain't explainin' this all to you again." He was almost growling the words, gesturing to the empty room as he talked and swinging his chair back and forth. He could easily find other people who would do what Levi did, but he was loyal and reliable. Or he had been. Sure there were the ones he refused but when he said he’d do it, he did it, and a damn good job of it too. The idea of losing that was really pissing him off.

"I thought you'd outgrown this shitty weak-ass attitude. Fuck Levi - has somethin' happened eh? Did the last job go bad and you didn't tell me?" 

"Don't be stupid." Levi's tone lowered. There was nothing he could confess but Kenny was really pressing him. He didn't know why it mattered so much to his uncle if he quit, but he wasn’t letting it go. Levi's fingertips entwined in his own fringe. This whole conversation made him feel cornered, forced to express things he couldn't explain.

"I've had enough of... blood." It was another vague statement, but enough for Kenny to piece it together. His uncle apparently hadn’t noticed that this distance had started right after the murder. The second murder, he reminded himself.

"Blood?" Kenny echoed. _Fuck's sake, that was last year, was he still hung up on what happened with that bitch?_

Levi could practically hear his uncle’s mind putting the puzzle together. Kenny had never been that good at reading people. He always assumed they were like him, shared his worldview and his morals and would take advantage the way he did. When they didn't handle a situation the way he would have done, he always seemed mystified.

"There's not gonna be anymore... blood Levi, I told ya! No need for you to act like a baby about it. And what's beatin' people got to do with that anyway eh? You're not hurtin' anyone who doesn't fuckin' deserve it." He was losing patience with every word.

"This is goddamn ridiculous and I'm not hearin' it! You get your ass down to Waltz's place, you put the scares in him properly this time, and I'll forget this conversation happened..." Even as he said it there was a touch of doubt in his tone; unlike most people Kenny knew, Levi never really seemed scared or intimidated by him.

"It's not happening." Levi said, enunciating every syllable with complete finality. "Send someone else. Do it yourself for once."

There wasn’t really anything that Kenny _could_ do against Levi; at least nothing that he was _prepared_ to do. This was maddening, confusing. Could he not see the way things were? The best way to live this life? When you had a useful skill, why wouldn’t you use it? And Levi… Levi was impressively - surprisingly - intimidating. As far as Kenny could see it was one of the few really useful talents his nephew had, and here he was saying he wasn’t going to do it anymore?

“You don’t make sense,” he growled. “Why’d you want to throw away this skill? What you gonna do instead - sit on that shitty packin’ line and fill fuckin’ boxes? Boxes, Levi!” 

“Yeah. Boxes.” He fell silent. His uncle was obviously waiting for more of an explanation, maybe hoping he could be persuaded, but he said no more. Kenny had never understood what it would take to buy Levi’s loyalties.

“Look, me, your old Uncle - there’s a shit ton of things I’m good at, but threatenin’ the way you do? That ain't one of them. But you, you got somethin’.” He was getting tired of arguing and he rubbed his forehead. Fuck this guy. “But hey, you wanna go down this road, I ain’t gonna waste my goddamn time on you.”

Levi rolled his eyes. If Kenny didn’t have time for him then he shouldn’t fucking call him back. He should know there was no changing his mind.

“See you at work.” He said it with complete determination, and hung up again. This time there was no call back.


	12. Graduation (30th July 1999)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Erwin's graduation day, and his Dad is there to spend it with him.

The crowds filtering out of the hall were moving frustratingly slowly. Erwin looked over the tops of their heads, searching for his only guest.

There he spotted Adrian in the distance, just outside the hall, watching the crowd file out, their smart graduation gowns flapping gently as they walked. He was scanning their faces, clearly looking for his own son among the masses.

Erwin waved in vain to catch his attention, eventually succeeding. As soon as their eyes met, Adrian’s face lit up, and he subconsciously tugged on his own tie, anxious to look smart on this big day. Pride and happiness swelled his chest to see his only child looking so pleased, clutching the certificate that he had worked so hard to achieve.

"Erwin, my boy," he said and held out his arms to pull him into a hug.

"Hey, Dad." He beamed, returning the gesture. He was about half a head taller than the older man now but seemed to have finally stopped growing.

Adrian clasped Erwin tightly in his arms for a moment, then pulled back to look up at him, keeping one hand on his arm. He tried to remember just when Erwin had grown taller than him, but he couldn't. It was strange that in his head he still pictured him as a teenager. After today he would have to make sure to update that mental image; he was a young man now, and he looked like it. Tall, broad shoulders, beginning to grow into himself.

"Let's get moving," Erwin said, interrupting his father’s reverie. He beckoned for his father, who followed him out into the gardens without complaint, where there was more space and less noise. They found a spot to stand in on the grass, close to a little fountain. Adrian thought it would be perfect for some photos, and was itching to get out the disposable camera already, but he restrained himself.

Half the attendees were wearing black cloaks, some with red and silver collars like Erwin’s, others blue and silver. Of all the History graduates in this year, Erwin Smith had managed the top grade by no small margin. It wasn't something he would dare say aloud, but as he looked back on these three years, he didn't even think it had been that difficult. He had studied long hours, but it hadn't been stressful. He'd loved every minute.

"I'll miss studying," he said thoughtfully. "And living here."

"I'm sure you will," Adrian replied with a chuckle. "All you ever told me for the last three years is how much you like your studies, how fun it is to always be learning.”

"It'll still be nice to have a quiet summer before I go back into it." His place was already lined up for full-time teacher training, starting in the autumn.

“I'm very proud of you," Adrian said, smiling up at him, seeing the bittersweet expression on his face. "Not just because you were top of your class."

Erwin’s heart swelled at the praise. Three years of excellent marks had taught him a lot about how to graciously accept a compliment while still retaining some humility. But he still looked down and fiddled with the tassel of his cap, cheeks turning bashful pink. "Thanks, Dad. I'm pleased with it."

Erwin had spent every holiday back at home with his dad, and expected to do the same this year. It was strange having some independence and then being at his childhood home again, but luckily his father was not the overbearing type. "I promise not to get under your feet at home."

"I'm hoping you will get under my feet a little!" Adrian said, laughing. "It'll be nice to have you back for a while." He knew it was going to be tough, despite his words; he wanted to spend every moment he could with Erwin while he had him, but he had a huge story he was working on for the paper. He would have to be careful to balance the two for a while. "I'm not saying I don't enjoy the peace and quiet, Erwin, but you're welcome home anytime you want. I mean that - doesn't matter how old you are."

"Saves you from rattling around that house alone." Erwin teased, but he knew it was more than that. His dad hadn't even moved any of his old ornaments or trinkets, and his childhood bedroom was always made up for him. Setting foot inside it was like a time capsule; he could see all the years deeply dawning in front of him, every footstep behind him all at once. It was a stable place, and his father the most stable presence. It made him feel better about the intimidating prospect of postgraduate training and an actual career path. Being focused on his studies, Erwin had never had a real world job before. This was all going to be so new.

“Rattling?” Adrian said with a mock-gasp. “I’m not an old man yet, Erwin.” He laughed, blue eyes twinkling with amusement. He'd always known Erwin was going to do well. The fear of failure was so great that Erwin always tried hard, but Adrian had a feeling his son could have sailed through with much less effort. On the other hand he was pleased to know that he'd raised someone with such a strong work ethic, and who valued knowledge and education enough that he was going on to become a teacher and educate other people too. He liked that thought and it seemed to suit him. He could picture it so easily.

The sun fell speckled on the ground through the trees, and Erwin watched it sway across the paving stones. He wanted to memorise every detail. There was a nostalgia in coming to the end of this chapter of his life, and moving back home.

"I packed everything properly over the weekend," he said. Luckily he hadn't shared his undergraduate room with anyone, or they might have been frustrated with the clutter. His space seemed to go through periods of cleanliness, followed by complete neglect whenever he got busy. Erwin was far from the student horror story of mouldy plates and unwashed laundry, but books and scraps of notes still littered every square inch of his desk. He figured that didn't count as dirty... messy, perhaps.

“Packed - you mean you threw everything into boxes and hoped for the best? Please at least tell me that you put labels on them so you know what is what.” 

“I… did…” Erwin answered evasively. He had indeed labelled his boxes, but filling any one of them with books made them too heavy to carry, so he had to divide the books between all of them. It seemed very sensible at the time. Now he just had twelve boxes and every single one said “Clothes, books, games, videos” on the side.

“Hmm, okay...” Adrian said, throwing Erwin a skeptical look. Erwin could be so organised when it came to studying - his room had always been filled with endless colour-coded timetables and charts, study cards that he’d beg his Dad to help him with - but in other areas of his life he was less organised. After every visit home during the holidays, once Erwin had left again, Adrian would step into his son’s room and have a little tidy up of the minor mess left in his wake. Usually just some books left around, maybe a cup of water on the bedside table and something that strayed underneath the bed and been forgotten. It became Adrian’s routine to do so, and it gave him a sense of closure on his son going away again.

He decided not to push the issue, because he really wanted to get photographs before Erwin could change his mind. Unable to resist any longer, Adrian took the disposable camera out of his pocket and held it up with a questioning expression, his intent obvious.

Erwin covered his face as his dad shook the camera at him, mumbling, “aw, Dad…” into his hand. “...Okay.”

“Come on, Erwin, it’s a Father’s job to embarrass his son by being all proud of him. Now go stand over by that fountain and look handsome,” he said, gently shoving him towards it. Erwin sheepishly made his way forward, fussing with the cuffs of his shirt and the collar of his gown. “Not that you have much choice in that,” Adrian added, as he held the little cardboard camera up to his eyes. “Why don’t you have a girlfriend huh..?”

“You don’t scrub up so badly either,” Erwin said, subtly avoiding the girlfriend question. Dating wasn’t one of his main priorities, and if campus gossip could be trusted then most students just wanted casual hookups rather than real relationships. That wasn’t at all appealing to Erwin.

Adrian tutted and shook his head as he took a few pictures of Erwin’s happy face. He held his certificate and cap in his hands, and today he didn’t have to fake a smile for the camera.

“You can’t deflect with me, son,” he said. “You didn’t meet anyone that you liked at all, in the whole three years of studying..?” He wondered why Erwin was being so coy about it.

“Not enough to bring home to Dad,” Erwin said, though he was sure he was blushing again. Parents could be so embarrassing. His could see the look in Adrian’s eyes, the suspicion, but thankfully he decided to let him off on any further interrogating.

“I need to find someone who can take a picture of both of us…” Adrian looked around the garden, at the people close by, happy-faced families standing in little clusters around the people in their graduation gowns. “Do you know anyone around here we can ask, or shall I choose someone random?”

Erwin glanced around, and some of the faces were familiar but he had only interacted with them a handful of times at most. History had a large cohort and it was hard to keep track of anyone.

“Just pick at random. Try not to make a nuisance of yourself.”

“Okay, okay,” Adrian said cheerfully and handed the camera to the first person he saw. He walked eagerly to stand beside his son. It suddenly occurred to Erwin how rarely he saw his Dad in a suit. Since he worked freelancing from home, his look was more linen shirt and a pair of jeans. But now he was wearing a plain grey suit with a smart dark shirt. He looked like one of Erwin’s teachers.

Adrian grinned widely, placing one arm around Erwin’s shoulders, then thanked the woman when she had taken four or five photographs.

“There! I want plenty of pictures. Don’t think I won’t take more at the meal, and then when we’re packing, and then when you get home,” he threatened playfully, as he put the camera back into his pocket; for now.

Erwin rolled his eyes but he was grinning too. He didn’t doubt his father one bit. The picture would probably end up on the mantelpiece alongside the current panoply, which included at least three birthday photos, two Christmas ones, one of him with his first bike and one from his first day of school.

“Erwin, in all seriousness - you have worked so hard for this, and you deserve it,” Adrian said, voice softening. “You deserve every mark, and every bit of pride that I have for you. I really do believe that there is nothing you couldn’t accomplish if you set your mind to it.”

“And I owe it all to you,” Erwin replied gently, before shifting gear, tone brightening. “But I do plan to take a break this summer. I don’t want to burn out before I start again.”

“I’m glad to hear that!” his father told him. “You should give that brain of yours a rest for a while. Be an irresponsible young man, before you have to become a responsible teacher." 

“You’ll get some free time, right?” Erwin frowned. It wasn’t showing today, but over the Easter break he had seen signs of exhaustion in his Dad. More than once, he had called home to catch up and got the distinct impression that he’d caught his father in the middle of a nap. He knew his father chose his own hours, so he couldn’t work out why he was suddenly sleeping like someone on a night shift.

Adrian gave his son a skeptical glance at those words, even though he knew he had been caught out. Erwin, on the other hand, was not reassured by the slow response. “I mean, you won’t be buried in that study _all_ summer, I hope?” he prodded.

"I won't, I won't - I'll make sure we get plenty of time together. I admit, I have been working hard on a story. It needs a lot of my time is all, and every time I chip away at something or follow a lead, I get a little closer. It's an exciting feeling." He wondered if Erwin would want to hear anything about it. He decided he couldn't resist, enthused by the story, and lowered his voice as he continued. "I'm trying to get the name of the head of a group who have been smuggling drugs into the country. If I do, we could break it as an exclusive for the paper and help with the city's drug problem at the same time. It could be the most important story of my career, if I can find out who this person is."

"Smugglers...?" Erwin's interest was piqued. It wasn't his Dad's usual repertoire. Most of his stories were fairly small exposés. He had been involved in some important campaigns, drawing attention to issues of overcrowding, bad landlords or school funding. This sounded a world apart.

"Sounds exciting," he confessed. He knew drugs had spiralled out of control in his hometown, but it seemed like his father was the first one to trace the web back to the spider at the centre.

"I admit, it is exciting," Adrian replied, a grin appearing on his face. "It's really something else to have a story like this to work on. I haven't told the paper any details yet. I'm being selfish, I want to have something solid before then, so they don't try to bring in someone else to do it with me." He chuckled.

"Do you think you're getting there?"

"I'm definitely making progress! I have leads to follow, and I think I know how they get the drugs into the country. The next time they do it, I should be able to track it down to a person. Hopefully, to whoever is running things." He couldn't help looking pleased, and his voice was enthusiastic; it was the first time he'd had a chance to talk about it with anyone.

“I’m sure you don’t want to hear about this though,” he added after a moment. “It’s your big day, Erwin. Let's not waste it talking about work.”

"Your work isn't boring, though," Erwin said, waving politely at a few acquaintances as they strolled past. "I'll switch off if you talk about sales targets or something."

He spent a few moments in silence, taking in the surroundings, committing this day to memory. He would have been happy if things had stayed like this forever.

If only they had.


	13. Gifts (30th July 1999)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny sends a prostitute to Levi's room which leads to an argument between the two men.

It wasn’t ever planned that a party would happen that evening, it was just that Kenny was feeling generous, and no one wanted to leave. He had come in with Duran and Traute and ended up inviting a few others. Only he and Traute knew exactly how much the deal had been worth, but Kenny’s mood made clear to everyone else that it must be a substantial victory. He let everyone help themselves to booze, and he sent Duran out at one point to collect some of their supply to share around. Then more people started to show up. By the time midnight rolled around, the house was full and music was blasting out.

It wasn’t long after that that some of Kenny’s women arrived, and he quickly gathered his favourites around him, bragging and talking and drinking into the early hours. When at last people started to drift out and the house quieted down, Kenny kept two of the women back, paying them to stay the night. Then, as another walked past on her way out, he grabbed her arm. He had been thinking on and off about Levi every time it looked like a fight was going to break out, but nothing got out of hand and he hadn’t seen his nephew once.

“Oi,” he said, plucking a generous amount of notes out of his pocket. “Take this, go upstairs, see the guy in the first room. Whatever he wants, hear me?” The woman looked at him, then down at the money and placed her hand eagerly around it before he could change his mind. She’d never seen so much money for one night, and shoved it into her tiny bag. If it was some random guy on the street she’d have been suspicious, but she felt safe here in Kenny’s place, surrounded by people that he knew.

“Sure thing, Mr Ackerman,” she agreed, and turned to the stairs, her heels thudding awkwardly on each step as she went, big earrings swinging from side to side. She knocked on the door to the room on the right.

Levi was lounging on his bed with a Gameboy, headphones plugged in as he killed time waiting for Kenny's party to end. He flicked out one earbud as the knock came. Some mystery woman was not the guest he expected, and his stare told her as much.

“Hey,” she greeted, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe. “Can I come in?”

"Huh?" Levi frowned, then looked back at his screen as he gestured behind her. His uncle must be continuing with a 'private' party. He rolled his eyes. "Kenny's room is down the hall." He put the earphone back in, expecting to be left in peace.

“No, no!” the woman said, the smile staying in place. “He sent me here for you.”

Levi removed his headphones, clearly irritated by the ongoing interruption. "For me." His voice was blank, his expression matching it. He beckoned her over. "How much cash did he give you?" 

The woman, puzzled, stepped into the middle of the room, closing the door behind her as if she expected to stay.

"I didn't count but..." She reached into her purse to reveal a fairly sizeable stack. 

"Not bad," Levi commented, then sighed. His uncle was an idiot. "Fuck's sake. Keep it and go home."

It took a moment for her to register what her would-be customer had said. She stared at him, mouth slightly agape.

“This much?” she said incredulously, then looked suspiciously at him. “Are you gonna tell Kenny you didn’t sleep with me?” She wondered if she should be insulted, but then again she was this close to getting out of here with a huge wad of cash for nothing...

Levi nodded, wondering why she hadn’t turned tail already. “Yeah. I’m going to tell him not to pull this shit again.”

“What the hell?” she replied angrily. “You can’t tell him that! He’ll want this back! Look, just let me give you a handjob or something? You can call me anything you want while I do it...”

She said it as if it was persuasive, but Levi pulled a face. Why would he want to call her anything? He hadn’t considered the money angle, but now that she said it, he realised she was right. Kenny probably would want his money back.

“No. I don’t pay for sex.” His uncle should know better than to force the issue. Something about it was sordid, exploitative. It made his thoughts turn to things he didn’t want to contemplate.

“Then you better keep it secret!” she fumed, but she doubted he would agree… he seemed all _principled_. “You’re gonna get me in a lot of shit with Kenny. I _need_ this money! I’m not giving it back just because you’re _shy_!” She kept her hands firmly on her bag, holding it to her chest, eyes glancing towards the door.

“Fuck no. Nobody is going to think I fucked a hooker.” He scowled. It was nothing to do with shyness. He would have been ashamed to the core to have paid for sexual favours from a woman who, he could guess, needed the money for her habit. “I said his room’s down the hall. Go.” Kenny was unlikely to turn down a third companion, anyway.

“Fine, fuck you!” she cursed and stormed out of the room, leaving Levi alone. He looped the headphones around his neck again, but a few moments later Kenny’s footsteps came stomping dramatically down the corridor, and the man himself burst in shortly after. He stood in the doorway in his long dressing gown, glaring at his nephew.

“What the hell?” he demanded. “I paid this bitch good money to fuck you, you little shit. You turnin’ down a gift?”

Levi sighed as the door swung open. “I don’t pay for sex,” he said, feeling as if it was the hundredth time tonight.

“Yeah? Well _you_ haven’t!” Kenny argued, voice raised. “_I_ have, _for_ you! And you turn it down eh? When I’m just tryin’ to be good to you, show you a good time and my generosity, since you didn’t bother to come down for the goddamn party! You know what we did today brat? We pulled off the biggest shipment _ever_. The biggest ever, Levi. All because of my brains.” Bragging to his nephew was a safe option. He grinned widely, not even trying to hide his almost-gloating tone.

“Good for you,” Levi said absent-mindedly, looking at the screen as if he was playing. “I still don’t fuck hookers.”

The lack of appreciation made Kenny see red, and he snatched the stupid game machine out of Levi’s hand, throwing it down onto the end of the bed. His nephew sat upright and fixed him with a frosty stare now that the excuse to ignore him had been forcibly removed.

“You get away with a lot, kid,” Kenny snarled. “But disrespectin’ me by not listenin’, by refusin’ a gift like this? I didn’t even have to take your shitty ass in, didn’t have to feed you or let you crash with me, or give you a job.” He was aware of the women down the hall, still in his room, who could probably hear his raised voice right now. “I reckon it's time you thanked me, eh?”

“Why do you care if I fuck someone or not, huh?” Levi knew the answer. Kenny wanted everyone to be like him; he was annoyed when people were ‘sanctimonious’, when they thought they were better than drugs and criminality and mindless hedonism. He thought Levi was feeling superior, and wanted to drag him down into the muck and the mire, like him.

“I care when I paid for it, you little shit,” Kenny replied, snarling in the face of Levi’s cold and dismissive attitude. “Rest of the time, you do whatever you want! But when I call you come runnin’, and when I give you a gift you accept it. Got me?” 

He just couldn’t let it sound like Levi was being disrespectful and getting away with it, not when these women had to fear and respect him. And what gave him the right anyway? But his nephew was still stonewalling him and it grated at his last nerve. He decided to twist the knife.

“Your mother was a hooker, but you still reckon you’re better than all this...”

Maybe Kenny wanted him to lose his temper, but instead, Levi lowered his voice to a whisper. Unlike his uncle, he didn’t relish the thought of their conversation being overheard.

“Why do you think I won’t fuck them?”

His uncle stared at him as if he was frozen in time, and Levi wondered whether he should have confessed that much. Kenny would probably think it was stupid sentiment. But Levi knew, even as a child, how much his mother hated this life. Some of the detail was lost on him, but children had keen senses. He wasn’t about to put someone through it for the sake of getting laid.

“Bah,” said Kenny, but he actually turned his head away, feeling the slightest touch of shame; it lasted only a moment and then it was gone. He hadn’t forced his sister into that life, and he hadn’t forced any of these women either. It was their choice and who cared anyway? They got what they wanted and so did their customers.

When he looked back at Levi it was like he was seeing a stranger instead of his nephew. He didn’t understand the boy at all. The pair stared at each other in fraught silence.

“Nothing you say is going to change my mind,” Levi added, meaning every word.

After another pause, Kenny relented. “Fine. But I deserve more goddamn gratitude, after everything I’ve done for you.”

He shook his head and left, slamming the door hard behind him.

“...Everything,” Levi muttered sarcastically to his empty room.


	14. No Answer (5th June 2001)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tired of Levi avoiding him, Kenny hatches a plot involving Sannes and Levi faces the consequences with the police.

Kenny pulled out his phone for the fifth time that day and called up Levi, his fist clenched. Predictably there was no answer - he hadn’t been answering all week - and Kenny was getting pretty fucking irritated by now. He barely even saw the kid except at the warehouse. He showed up religiously for work but just as he’d promised, he’d quit all the violent side work. If Kenny and his friends showed up at Denham, Levi scarpered to Winterford Avenue, and vice versa.

At first he figured the kid would come around. He’d always been a bit soft, too quiet, practically allergic to having a good time. But then last Friday had happened. The pair had just switched houses again, and Kenny had been halfway through opening a letter when he realised it was addressed to Mr L, not Mr K, Ackerman.

Who the fuck sent Levi mail? Who the fuck even knew Levi existed? Kenny finished opening it, and saw red when he realised it was for an interview. The little shit! Bailing on him like this! All he even did was show up to work at the warehouse and now even _that_ was too much?

He quickly realised he would never see the kid again if he got some other job. He’d save up, move out, maybe even skip town. Once he was out of Kenny’s reach, there was no chance he’d learn anymore. And then the sorry little fucker would work minimum wage for the rest of his life.

Tossing the pieces of the letter in the bin, he doubled his efforts to contact his nephew, but after a few calls, Levi seemed to get suspicious. Once he stopped answering altogether, Kenny knew he would have to take drastic action. The kid would thank him for this one day.

He listened to one last unanswered ringing that continued into eternity, disconnected and instead found the number for “Sally (Hairdresser)”. He dialled, tapping his fingers until he heard the gruff “Hello?” he had been expecting.

Djel Sannes was a dangerous guy. Kenny made extra efforts to keep him on side, so he could use his skills whenever he needed them without worrying the guy would come after him. So he replied in a cheerful tone, despite his feelings to the contrary.

“Djel!” he said. “How’s things, eh?”

“Kenneth,” Sannes replied flatly. “I was just thinking about you. I want to collect tomorrow night, 6pm.” He huffed down the phone as he took a long drag from his cigarette, coughing very slightly at the end of it.

“Yeah sure, sure,” Kenny said with a laugh, sounding amicable despite the annoyance of being booked in like some kind of dentist appointment. “6pm, usual place. And in return, I need somethin’ unusual.” He could practically hear Sannes’ interest prickling, and he had his agreement immediately. Sannes loved stuff like this. He liked to pretend he was just keeping things under wraps, maintaining the respectable front, making Kenny’s madcap operation work like a business rather than a mob.

But Kenny knew the truth. Sannes wasn’t as mad as some of the people in their crew; he was rational and sound, not crazy. Even when it came to drugs he’d stayed away from the dangerous shit. But for all his veneer of respectability, Kenny knew deep down he was just addicted to something different. Djel lived not for the thrill of a high, but the intrigue of a scam, the secrecy of a mission, the responsibility of orders from above. He liked to feel reliable, like he was making the tough decisions, and Kenny needed a guy like that. Things felt safe if he put them in Sannes’ hands, and the irony of that was not lost on him.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Levi snapped awake at his desk to the sound of crashing, neck painful where he had fallen asleep at a bad angle. The clattering downstairs sounded average for one of Kenny's drunken nights, but by habit he grabbed a knife, just in case.

He was a few steps down when he heard a chair fall. Then, a metallic crash. There were no voices, which was decidedly unlike the times Kenny had unexpectedly visited in the early hours. He hadn't thought to check the time, but it was pitch black outside. The sheathed knife at his chest, he crept downstairs, listening out for more.

He froze when he heard a voice. “I know you’re in, Levi Ackerman. Suggest you come in here and face me like a man. If I have to come and find you, it’ll make this all the worse...”

It took a second to place it, but Levi was almost certain it was Djel Sannes. He mostly hovered silently and ominously at Kenny's side, but he was evidently alone now. If Kenny _had_ been here, he wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut for this long.

Sannes was taking the silence as no indication of whether Levi would appear or not. He couldn’t hear any footsteps but Kenny’s mission briefing had warned that his nephew was like some kind of ninja who could sneak up on you.

Levi placed the knife into the back of his belt, out of sight, before descending the last few steps and standing in the doorway. Sannes hadn't turned the lights on, so Levi found himself looking at nothing but a tall silhouette.

"The fuck you want?" he asked coldly.

“You think you can ignore your Uncle like this?” Sannes said, straight to the point, taking a step towards him. “That’s a dangerous thing to do, but you should know that already. So I’m here to find out why.” He gestured to the chair he hadn’t knocked over, as if he wanted him to sit down. 

Every muscle in Levi's body was on high alert, waiting for Sannes to make a move. He had no intention of sitting down to talk, and didn’t bother to say so aloud. He had expected his uncle to respond eventually, but he thought it would take its usual form; powerless nagging and complaining about family loyalty. This was drastic, even for a deranged drug dealer with a criminal empire to run. Was he really stupid enough to think that Levi could be threatened into the criminal life?

Receiving no answer, Sannes continued. “You’ve got him very… _worried_.” He had never paid Levi much attention before but now he sized him up as an opponent. He was short, wiry, and probably fast, judging by the way he held his body like a coiled spring ready to be released. If he was clever he’d have a weapon on him somewhere, but Sannes didn’t think him much likely to use it even if he did, judging by Kenny’s information.

"Kenny can handle himself without me."

“No doubt about that,” Sannes agreed. “But for whatever reason, you not answering him has him agitated. Maybe he just misses you. Maybe he thinks you’re snitching. He didn’t tell me. Just asked me to come and sort things out, see why you don’t want to talk to him all of a sudden. So want to tell me?”

Levi would have rolled his eyes if he didn't have to be so watchful. Kenny had a key. Evidently he had loaned it out. He could easily have visited himself if he was merely confused about Levi's disappearance. Or he could have spoken to him at the warehouse since Levi still showed up for work. No, Kenny must be afraid that Levi was going to sell him out to the police.

"Kenny's got guys like you to run around after him," he answered. It was only fair; most of the peons got something in return, like a steady supply. Levi didn't need that and was tired of life on his uncle’s terms. "I'll keep his secrets but I'm not doing any more--"

“Look, I really don’t give a shit,” Sannes interrupted with a sigh and a shake of his head. “You can say whatever you like to me, but there’s only one way this is going tonight, because I’m here to do a job.” He cracked his knuckles and looked at Levi with cold, shadowy eyes. “So you better put those fists up, boy.”

For a split second, Levi wondered what sense there was in fighting him. It made no sense that a beating would make him change his mind about working with Kenny. But those considerations flew from his mind as Sannes charged him. Now all that mattered was defence.

He quickly stepped aside, away from that fist, bringing up his own hand to grab Sannes' hair in a tight fist at the back of his head. He was big, much bigger than Levi, so it was easy to use his own momentum against him. Sannes threw his hands out, grasping the bannister, but his head still collided hard with the wall. He grunted and bit down painfully on his own lip, the impact stunning him for a moment. As Levi released him he sank down onto his knees, spitting blood onto the floor, taking in a few deep breaths.  
Levi took a step back, away from his enemy. "Don't think I won't kill you," he said in a warning tone. It was hollow, and Sannes apparently knew, since he laughed wryly as he pulled himself back to his feet.

“Kenny told me enough about you,” he said. “I know you won’t kill me.”

"You might wish I had." Levi's voice carried more venom than he felt. It was Kenny who really deserved his anger, but Kenny wasn't here and if there was a chance he could make Sannes retreat through pure intimidation then he would take it.

The man's level composure suggested it was unlikely. Apparently he didn't scare easily. Levi gritted his teeth, this time delivering a sharp roundhouse kick to Sannes' ribs. Winded, Sannes started coughing, then Levi followed it with another kick to the knee, which gave way and sent him tumbling onto the hard wood floor. 

"This ends when you choose," Levi said, only realising with horror a second later that he had picked up the line from Kenny. He resolved to give his uncle a beating for this directly, once he had dealt with his hired muscle.

Sannes either had a death wish or he was Kenny's most loyal fan, because he was getting up and not retreating. “That’s what Kenny says,” he said. “When he’s feeling cowardly.” He put up his fists and sprung towards him, going for a hard hit on his nose so Levi covered his face with his fists, lowering just enough to duck without exposing the back of his head.

He had no idea why Kenny had sent this guy. He must have been double Levi's age and he was apparently no fighter. But he wasn't staying down, he wasn't leaving, and his punch had been too close for comfort. The time for mercy had long passed.

Stepping off to the side at an angle, Levi coiled all his strength into a hard right hook. His knuckles met Sannes' cheekbone, but this time he moved in again, striking his opponent's jaw. After three or four blows to the face Levi paused with his fists still raised, watching and waiting.

“You little shit,” Sannes managed to say, his voice thick. Levi raised his fist as if he were ready to go for another round, but when Sannes stumbled away, he let the man retreat. Following cautiously, keeping a close eye on his enemy, Levi realised where he was headed and his mercy evaporated. He had turned on the kitchen tap, and was using the dishcloth to mop blood from around his nose and mouth - probably making a total fucking mess. Something about the audacity of coming in here trying to bully him, then using the sink like he lived here, not to mention bleeding everywhere…

“Oi.” He grasped Sannes by the neck urgently, nails not breaking the skin but scraping deep lines into him. He clutched a fist at the collar of Sannes’ shirt, yanking hard enough to make the seams scream and jerking him away from the sink, towards the door.

“Tell my uncle to do his own dirty work,” he said angrily as he wrenched open the door, still holding Sannes in the other. With a scathing look, he added, “he’s better at it.”

Once he was outside the house, shoved roughly into the night, Sannes turned back to Levi and grinned as best he could with his face a mess. It was insulting to let some civilian kid think he’d gotten the upper hand, but there were bigger things at stake. Let Levi believe he’d won the battle. He would soon realise that he’d lost the war.

“You think you got me good, don’t you?” he said. “I suggest you call your Uncle, Levi. Ask his forgiveness for ignoring him.”

Viewing his counsel as beneath contempt, Levi simply scowled at him before slamming the door shut. He wasn’t sorry for the bleeding wreck he had left. Sannes brought it on himself.

When he returned inside, he switched on the lights, tossing the bloody cloth into the bin angrily and finding a fresh one to clean the bloody fingerprints off the tap. Out in the hallway, there was a bloodstain on the wood, but that could wait until tomorrow. Levi owed Kenny a solid punch of his own for causing all of this.

Against his better judgment, he tapped out a message on his phone to his uncle.

_leave me alone or you'll get even worse_

Before sleeping, he dragged his heavy wardrobe in front of the door. He also took the unused knife from his jeans and placed it beneath his pillow, ready for any further retaliation. Sannes didn’t know how lucky he’d gotten.

\-------------------------------------------------------------

Kenny was awake, waiting for word from Sannes that the job was done. He got better than that in the form of a text from Levi himself. It made him laugh out loud to the empty room, and he jammed a message right back, one that he was sure would confuse his nephew very much.

_Did I miss something Levi? Did Djel show up to collect my clothes?_

He threw his phone down and waited for Sannes to show up, and when he did he was delighted; the man was a wreck of bruising and blood. Kenny only refrained from laughing a second time because he was worried Sannes would think he was directing it at him. Instead he poured him a drink, and listened with glee as he phoned the police to report the assault.

It felt like less than an hour since Levi had drifted off again. He checked his phone to confirm it was just over 30 minutes since he had thrown Sannes out. He also spotted a new message; Kenny.

His brow furrowed as he read it. This was some stupid game his uncle was playing. But the knocking continued, getting louder, and he had no time for figuring out that psychopath now.

Before answering, he put his jeans back on and re-sheathed the knife in his belt. Then, he had to wrestle the wardrobe back out of the way, the powerful thudding now shaking the front door. “Shut the fuck up,” he whispered under his breath, swinging open his bedroom door and going downstairs as fast as he could.

He expected Kenny, maybe Sannes, maybe another goon. He didn’t expect to see a uniform. The giant of a man standing in his doorway was a cop, staring at him unblinking from beneath a shaggy fringe. Levi’s mind raced; was Sannes really stupid enough to bring the police here?

“What do you want.” More of a statement than a question, his tone was icy. It was hard to figure out exactly what was going on, but he had a feeling this was going to go badly for him.

“Levi Ackerman?” Mike asked simply, staring down at a short man with black hair and tired eyes. Levi nodded, but he was still frowning, making his displeasure clear.

Mike, for his part, was slightly surprised. Criminals came in all shapes and sizes, and this one barely came up to his shoulders. He didn’t look sketchy, at least not from a first glance, but he did look… perhaps angry. He cut to the chase. “Where were you at 1.30am?”

“Here,” Levi answered slowly, as if he were speaking to a child. The guy was looking over his shoulder with ease, staring into the house, so he drew the door closer, standing in a narrow gap.

“Here?” Mike echoed, putting a foot forward so that it just edged over the threshold of the doorway in case Levi decided to slam it closed completely. “Doing what?” This guy was looking shadier by the minute. “Because we’ve had a call from a Djel Sannes, claiming you assaulted him. That true?”

Levi hesitated, wondering if Kenny knew what Sannes had done. Either he put him up to it, or Sannes hadn’t thought about the potential consequences. Usually Kenny hated to involve police. He never did it, and was always warning Levi to avoid _the pigs_. It would be colossally stupid to bring law enforcement into their lives, but then again, he had neatly cut himself out of the deal by sending Sannes.

“Guess so,” Levi answered eventually.

Mike had to admit, Levi’s reaction was pretty refreshing though it did cause him to raise an eyebrow. It wasn’t often someone just admitted it like that. It was going to save him a lot of work.

“You confess to assaulting Mr Sannes?”

There was no use pretending otherwise; unlike Kenny, Levi wasn't one for concocting grand stories to get out of trouble. It was bad enough doing it to cover the trail of Kenny's murders. Lying was complicated and even the police could figure out what had happened here. He may as well spare himself the trouble.

"He came in unannounced at 1am," Levi stated. The implication was obvious. _He got what he deserved._ "So yeah."

“Unannounced with a key,” Mike added, eyeing Levi to make sure he didn’t look like he was going to bolt. If anything he looked remarkably calm for someone who was confessing to at least a pretty violent battery. “I know this property belongs your Uncle, Kenneth Ackerman, and that he gave Djel Sannes the key. It didn’t occur to you after, say, the first punch that this might be someone you know..?”

“I don’t _know_ him,” Levi said sullenly. He was about to add that friends of his uncle were usually bad news, but he couldn’t say that. Questioning down that line would unravel a whole messy story, and Kenny was a loose cannon. He might reveal the deaths that had already happened if he was angry enough with Levi. He would definitely take them both down if he felt like it.

Mike took a step forwards, pushing the door firmly with his hand, so it was clear to Levi that he intended to enter the house. The smaller man braced his body against the door, glaring at the cop as they both used enough force to keep it still, wavering between them. “I answered your questions,” he said, voice strained with the exertion.

“Yes, you’ve been very cooperative,” Mike agreed, nodding, keeping his force against the door level, then giving it a harder shove. The sudden push sent Levi back and before he could react, the cop was on him. “Get the fuck off me,” he spat, despite knowing that a police officer would do no such thing. 

Levi had no idea what he would do if he managed to get away, but tried to writhe out of that hold on pure instinct once he heard the clinking of handcuffs and realised where this was going. He was wrestled down, his cheek pressed against the wall as his wrists were twisted behind his back. Mike had to work hard to keep him pinned there, and he didn’t often have trouble with that kind of thing. This guy might be tiny but apparently it wasn’t a good idea to underestimate him. They’d been cautious in case he made a run for it, but now he could use the help so he flicked the alert button on his radio to call his partner, who soon came running.

"Alright, alright, that's enough--"

Nile grabbed Levi's upper arms, holding him still while Mike secured the handcuffs. Now that he could see the man’s hands, he spotted little tiny cuts on his knuckles, and they were starting to puff up with bruises. This was an open and shut case. Ackerman had probably done himself a favor by confessing, providing he didn’t have some lawyer who came in to persuade him to change his story once he got to the station.

“Would you do the honours?” Nile was eyeing Levi from head to toe with obvious distaste.

“Levi Ackerman, I am arresting you on suspicion of assault and battery against Djel Sannes. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

Upon searching his suspect, Mike found a poorly-concealed knife in his belt, handing it straight to Nile to be bagged. “What were you going to use that for, huh?”

“I don’t usually get visitors at 2am.” Levi threw Mike a dark look at the question. They didn’t need to know that he almost always had a knife within reach. It was Kenny’s legacy and now it appeared to be burying him. No doubt his uncle would be pleased.

“Not a very good reason for walking around with a weapon,” Nile said, rolling his eyes as he took over from Mike in the restraining of Levi. “Come up with something better than that next time you want to beat a senior citizen half to death.”

Mike’s large footsteps paced the room and he pointed down at the stain on the carpet, an inquiring look on his face. “I suppose you’ll tell me this is just wine?”

“Are you stupid or does that pass for humour around here?” the suspect asked in a low, unimpressed tone.

“Officer Zacharias is neither stupid nor funny,” Nile said with a laugh, and put pressure onto Levi’s arms to get him moving. Mike looked as if he didn’t know whether to be reassured or offended, and settled for neither. “Now out to the car with me, I’m taking you in before you can even think about trying to get away.” He led him out to the car, shoving Levi into the back. “Move it!”


	15. Consequences (17th June 2001)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi finds out the truth about what happened with Sannes.

At the sound of the front door opening Levi pulled out his headphones, eyes watchful. At first he expected Kenny’s usual band of junkies, but it was too quiet for that. His hand draped over the edge of the bed, thin fingers drifting towards the hidden hilt of his knife as the stairs creaked. It could be one of Kenny’s vassals, maybe even Sannes coming back for more.

Suddenly the invader marched into his room, and it was the man himself. Levi sat up, already defensive, silently eyeing his uncle but not saying a word. Kenny just stood in front of him, arms folded, grinning.

“What’d they give you?” he demanded. “Suspended sentence or fine?” 

“...A fine.” Even more than usual, he couldn’t afford to piss off his uncle. He wasn’t exactly flush with cash, and things would be even more difficult with this penalty.

“Good. Knew you’d be alright though, they don’t go hard on ya first time round, everyone says it. That’s why I sent Sannes. Knew he’d get sympathy from those pigs.” His grin widened. Levi just glared up at him through dark eyelashes, teeth set firmly. He wanted to punch the motherfucker.

“Real smart to involve cops, dumbass.”

“Hey, don’t go gettin’ an attitude,” Kenny replied, jabbing a finger in Levi’s direction. “_You_ pushed me to this. Think you can go quittin’ that easily? I let you get away with a lot of crap, Levi, but I ain’t lettin’ you throw away your life on some shitty second-rate warehouse job. Now workin’ in _my_ warehouse is one thing, but fuckin’ off to some honest joe’s place packin’... I don’t know, nails or peanuts, or some—”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Levi interjected sharply. He wasn’t following any of Kenny’s rambling. Those lectures were unclear at the best of times. “Why does it matter what warehouse I work in?”

“Because you work for _me_,” said Kenny, thumbing at his own chest. “You’re in this fuckin’ family, you don’t get to just _leave_. Fucking cheek, even thinking that that was an option!”

His tone lowered to a grumbling, ranting more to himself than his nephew. “Didn’t even come to me, went behind my back…” His eyes darted back up, furious all over again. “What was the plan? Get a shitty deadend job, sneak off in the night, leave your uncle behind? No way.” Kenny sneered but there was an amusement to it. He knew he’d got Levi caught where he wanted him.

“...How did you find out?” Levi hadn’t ever admitted he was looking for honest work, but he’d never expected Kenny to care. Nor had he expected to hear back from any of them, so he hadn’t discussed his plans with anyone. Instead he had applied for any job that didn’t seem picky. With his rudimentary reading skills and his total lack of qualifications, he wasn’t exactly competitive, but he did have a lot of warehouse experience, thanks to his uncle.

“Got a letter,” Kenny crowed. “You never get post so I opened it, wanted to find out who the hell was writing to you. Turns out it was _work_. An _interview_. You got any idea how fuckin’ mad I was, finding that? Well… suppose you do, since I set Sannes on you.” 

This was the worst news. Levi hadn’t even realised that he had an interview - one which he had definitely missed by now. He knew Kenny checked the houses regularly enough for deliveries, so he was likely to pick up any mail, but he hadn’t even prepared for it. After all, he’d been applying for work with no luck so far. He had all but given up hope.

“So, you get it, don’t ya? Why I did that?” Kenny demanded when Levi didn’t respond, unwilling to let a successful plan go by without some gloating.

“...Yeah. I get it.” He should take his knife from where it was safely wedged between his mattress and his bedframe, and… not _kill_ his uncle, but frighten him, fuck him up. It was beyond him how Kenny had the guts to be angry at him just for seeking non-criminal work. Not to mention involving the police. This was a man with blood on his hands, and yet it was _Levi_ who had the criminal record? The anger seethed through him, his breaths shallow, adrenaline urging him to action.

But he couldn’t. If he attacked Kenny, and lost his job or got a pay cut, then he wouldn’t be able to get by anymore. It had taken this long to get an answer about a job, and now he had a criminal record, it was only going to be worse. And he had court damages to pay. He held his tongue.

“You’re gonna stay workin’ for me, because no normal sucker with a normal ass business is gonna hire a guy with your record,” Kenny told him. Then he held up his hands, launching into his prepared speech. “Now, I ain’t unreasonable Levi. Not in the business of forcin’ you to be like me, so hey - we’ll go on with the normal arrangement. You work on the lines packin’ my stuff, you beat up scumbags when I tell you, and you accept this is how it is. Got it?” 

Levi fixed Kenny with a dead-eyed stare, thinking over his options. He wasn’t going to quit looking for other work just because Kenny said so, and he didn’t much care if Kenny found out again. But the odds of him being offered anything were slim to none. He had imagined working somewhere else, renting somewhere and living alone in peace. Now that seemed an impossible goal.

He ignored Kenny’s question, his pride not allowing him to agree to those terms aloud, but he knew he was tied here now. They both did.

“Isn’t such a bad life if you accept it,” the taller man continued. “Why do you fight it, brat?”

“Because you’re getting worse,” Levi said truthfully. That was his deepest concern. Kenny couldn’t be described as a low-level criminal anymore. Making money out of drugs was one thing. Murder was entirely another.

Kenny narrowed his eyes at the accusation. Worse? He wasn’t any worse! He’d always been like this; running the warehouse, dealing, taking care of his girls. Those deaths were nothing. Just the cost of doing business.

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid,” he scoffed. “I don’t know what you’re goin’ on about.”

“Yes you--”

“Just shut your mouth and do as you’re told.”

“Yes, you do.” Levi repeated louder, staring intently at Kenny. He was trying to figure out his mindset, but it never worked. Levi couldn’t deduce what fuelled him, what let him shut down his empathy. People fell into two categories for him; troublesome obstacles, or useful items. Kenny was desperately trying to move Levi from the first group into the second.

Levi waved towards the door. “You made your point, now fuck off.” But his uncle stood his ground; he wasn’t done here yet.

“You know,” he said. “For someone so goddamn moral, you’ve done fuck all about what I did. Why’s that eh? If you care so much about those... two?” He stammered slightly over the word, though the pause was so slight as to be barely noticeable, well covered up. Levi didn’t know what had happened with the _third_ guy and Kenny intended to keep it that way. The less he was aware of, the better for the both of them. 

“I don’t want you in jail,” Levi said, not altogether honestly. “As long as the killing is over.”

If Kenny thought Levi had forgotten those deaths, he was deeply mistaken. They came back to him time and time again. He’d had multiple conversations with himself over it and even contemplated turning Kenny in. But whenever Levi pictured himself walking into a police station, he got the feeling that it would go badly for him.

He knew they would ask why he took so long to report it, and he didn’t have a good answer. He also knew that Duran would side with Kenny, and there would be two people naming Levi as the murderer of Faye Scadden. And he wasn’t quite sure how DNA worked, but he had touched Lang’s body, so he might end up being blamed for that. Besides, he now had a criminal record, which - _unbelievably_ \- Kenny still did not.

“Whatever Levi.” Kenny knew he could never give him a guarantee. He would do whatever he deemed necessary. The relationship with Levi felt uneasy and always had. When he’d been a child, Kenny had given as much as he was capable. Now Levi was an adult, it was an even stranger association, but the truth was that Levi was his blood; his only relation. Despite it all, that meant something to him.

“You don’t need to crap yourself over me - I ain’t going to jail. But from now on, we stick to the plan. You come back, you work for me. Agreed?” He smiled and held out his hand to Levi, to shake, like a proper businessman would. 

Levi did not smile back. He was still furious with Kenny for setting him up this way, although his uncle didn’t acknowledge that at all. It seemed that when Kenny was angry he showed it or acted upon it, so he didn’t realise how much some people could hide their emotions.

It wasn’t as if he had a choice anymore. But he couldn’t bring himself to reach out. “Fuck off with that shit,” he muttered. “I said I’ll do it.”


	16. Back to Work (17th April 2003)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back at work for Kenny, Levi threatens Dachtler over his loose tongue.

Levi held a hand up, giving Traute the signal that it was safe to leave. Squinting in the darkness, he saw her nod behind the driver's side window, then her headlights flashed up and illuminated the hammering raindrops. Her tyres crashed through the puddles on the tarmac, leaving Levi outside the warehouse in a wide open parking lot. He was grateful that it had a roof to save him from the elements and that it was unlit, only catching the faintest amber glow of streetlamps from a distance.

The warehouse doors closed with a rattle and crash, the figure fumbling with a key for a few minutes. Soon enough Sebastian Dachtler was striding past empty parking spaces, eager to get home. 

It was obvious when he realised he wasn’t alone. Levi watched his target eyeing him, the shape in the distance, his pace slowing. In case he decided to make a break for it, Levi started walking to meet him.

Visibility was low, but Sebastian must have known it wasn't Kenny. He was _lucky_ it wasn't Kenny.

"Working late, Dachtler?" Levi could practically hear the cogs turning in his target's mind, figuring out that all the delays had been planned ahead of time, strings pulled by his boss.

It was only when he spoke that Sebastian recognised him as Kenny's nephew. Disturbingly quiet and known to be good with his fists. Sebastian’s car was parked out front, so he had no choice but to keep walking and try to ignore the panic that was rising in him. A visit like this couldn't mean anything good.

As they came face to face, Levi put a hand flat on his chest, looking up at him through dark strips of hair, flecked by rain.

"Evening," the man said, flinching at the touch of his hand but holding his nerve enough to stand still.

"Haven't seen you in a while."

“Yeah, I-- no, I guess not.” Dachtler was already nervous, pulling and clenching at the pockets of his coat as he forced a laugh, his shoulders tense as a coiled spring. "Something wrong? I can't stop, I'm running late and it's a busy night. If I'd known you wanted to talk I'd have told Kenny not to put me on such a late shift, it's not a good place for a meeting, this car park. All dark and cold." He glanced past Levi and tried to take a bold step towards his car, but the smaller man took a step to the side, moving directly into his path.

He spoke over the blustering and protesting. "This is important, Sebastian. It’s business."

Sebastian's eyes widened and Levi watched him, unblinking. He didn’t want to waste time or energy on playing games, even though Kenny would have toyed with him like a cat with a mouse. He cut straight to the point.

"Some well-intentioned member of the public seems to think you're a dealer. Where would they get an idea like that?"

After a few seconds of silence, Seb scrabbled for a response, rattling words off at light speed. "No idea Levi, I can't even imagine - Kenny knows I keep things to myself, knows I don't take risks," he protested, though every word felt and sounded feeble. "I just do what he says, and if someone is saying I talked, well, I didn't! It's probably a snitch. You should find whoever that is Levi, go harass them."

Levi raised an eyebrow sceptically. The person who reported Dachtler was officially anonymous, but Kenny had it on good authority that it was a young lady named Summer. They could take an educated guess and say that wasn't her real name, since she worked at a strip club called the Velvet Lounge. It seemed that Sebastian liked to throw cash around and play a big man. A smarter individual would’ve kept their money-making methods a secret, and a good dealer could suss the users as soon as they entered the room. People like Kenny and Traute had it down to a fine art. Sebastian did not. He acted like a gangland boss wherever he went, broadcasting his status to everyone.

Levi could just picture him, surrounded by scantily-clad women in a glamorous setting, throwing money and casino chips around. It was a world apart from his current persona, shrinking in the rainy parking lot under the gaze of a man half his size. Seb’s eyes were darting guiltily, looking for a way around him, but he could tell that even if he somehow managed to run Levi would be on him before he reached his car. It would do no good anyway. They'd just come back for him tomorrow.

“Some customer wants you banned from the Lounge. Seem to think you’re shady. Where did they get an idea like that?”

The guilt practically seeped out of Dachtler. Levi had a feeling he was trying to piece together who had reported him, which was exactly why he had lied and claimed it was a customer, not an employee. Sebastian looked pathetic right now, but there were stories. He was a different man when he felt powerful, and Levi had no doubt that he could be nasty. There was no telling what he’d do if he identified the woman who named him.

For a moment, Seb considered lying right back, claiming he’d never even stepped foot in the place, but the look on Levi's face stopped him. He'd never had much to do with him before, and now he could see just why Kenny wanted him around. He was intimidating beyond what his stature would suggest; a dangerous look in his eyes and a strength behind his stance. If either Ackerman knew he was lying, then who knew what Levi would do to him?

Instead he clung to his story, desperate enough to try and unable to see any other way out. "They don't know what they're talking about," he said.

_Don’t end up on Findlay’s team._ One of the lineworkers had said it just today.

"Probably just those hookers," he said, trying to shift the blame. "The girls in there, you know what they're like. Hot asses, big mouths. They see a guy like me, well dressed and successful, they're all over me. I sell a bit in there, Kenny likes that, he told you right? That I make a lot of money that way. But I'm careful! And it's not my fault if those whores go shooting their mouths off."

Sebastian was nervous, watchful, like a rabbit staring at a snake. Levi hated the darker part of him that enjoyed it, but he still fixed the man with an unconvinced stare. There were no hints of prostitution going on at the lounge. The witness in question was just a stripper, and she seemed quite scared - maybe even angry - about drug dealers showing up where she worked. Besides, it was hard to imagine any woman going wild over a guy like this.

“_Selling_ is fine. _Advertising_ is not. Do you understand me?”

"I told you," Sebastian retorted, forgetting his fear in the face of the accusation, however fair it was. "I didn't do anything! Those girls, they blab, they run their whore mouths off! I can't stop _them_ from talking!" 

Seb looked around, heart racing, contemplating once more whether or not he could make a run for his car. He had mental images of making a break for it, only for swift-footed Levi to reach him and pin him up against the car. He shuddered lightly, and not from the cold. 

It was obvious that he was formulating some kind of escape, but Levi was getting annoyed by Dachtler’s stubbornness. All he had to do was nod, agree, and be more tight-lipped from now on. Instead he was on the defensive like an idiot, and Levi was going to have to get his hands dirty.

“If you kept _your_ whore mouth shut, then they would have nothing to say.” 

"Now that’s--" Sebastian started to say, then swiftly found himself on the business end of Levi's hands, being pulled around. Levi grabbed a fistful of the man’s collar and yanked him down to his level, up close in his face.

“Hey hey, watch the---”

“I don’t give a shit where you sell. You think I care that you have to pay someone to see to your dick?” Levi pushed hard, forcing Sebastian back and immediately advancing another step. The bigger man was unused to fights and scuffles, preferring the hedonistic side of drugs to the violence that often came with it. As a rule that's why he sold in the clubs rather than out of the streets; it was far safer. He wasn't built for this and they both knew it.

Levi continued. “Crowded place. Lots of strippers. Drunk, overweight, sloppy patrons like you. Some idiot mouthing off about how much money he makes. Word gets around, gets back to Kenny, gets back to me, gets to the _police_, and then we’re all fucked.”

Sebastian looked scared, but wasn’t giving Levi the answer he needed. He was frozen, thinking back on Josie’s warning last week. _Don’t play games. Kenny’ll put you in Findlay’s office._

Sannes said it once, sniggering at him. _You after Findlay’s job or something?_

"Answer me."

Seb jumped, eyes wide as he heard Levi's voice cut through his spiralling thoughts. He focused back on his cold, dead expression. The look had only intensified and every word seemed to be punctuated with threat. Sebastian’s heart was pounding in his ears, and all he could think about were the rumours. Did Kenny do it? Did Levi do it? No one ever found a body. Now he was here in the parking lot. Possibly with a murderer.

“I… I…”

As far as Levi could see, Dachtler had somehow cured his bad case of verbal diarrhoea and was now stammering like an idiot. He remained silent, waiting for the answer he needed. When it didn’t come, without warning he slammed his right fist into the man’s temple, following it up with a swift elbow to the chest.

He wasn’t going to prison over this guy’s ego and Sebastian didn’t see the blow coming, Levi moved so fast, and in a moment he was almost on the floor. He staggered, dazed, head pounding and his arm up to his face to shield himself from any more blows.

“I _said_, watch your fucking mouth in public. Do you _understand me?”_

“Fuck,” Dachtler moaned, sounding incredulous as to what had happened, eyes wide. “I didn’t do anything, I didn’t! I’m careful! I’m always careful! You got me all wrong...I’m not hurting anybody, I never say any names or anything, and who knows me eh Levi? No one!” Even as he spoke he could tell his words were having no effect on Levi, but he couldn’t stop himself from making all the excuses.

“You were _named_,” Levi seethed. “Anonymous tip-off. A concerned member of the public.” He grabbed a fistful of Sebastian’s collar, finger jabbing hard into his cheek to punctuate every syllable.

“If you bring down this gig, I will tear your life apart. No money. No power. And nothing left for the strippers to play with.”

None of it was true. But he found that he didn’t have to get his hands dirty that often if he talked this way. If the idiot knew what was good for him, he would smile and nod, agree to his terms, be more subtle in future, then they could all go home.

“Now tell me that you _understand_!” He shoved Sebastian again.

Sebastian tried to cower, but Levi’s grip on him with strong and tight. He looked intense too, his expression coldly furious, and Sebastian was panicking, fearful Levi might just murder him. Somehow he could picture him wrapping his hands around his throat or pulling a knife to plunge into his stomach. _Fuck, fuck..._

“I understand, I understand!” Sebastian wailed, pulling to try and get away from him, as far as he could, shuffling away almost along the ground once he was released. He took one look again at Levi, realised the man wasn’t coming after him right now, and jumped up to his feet, sprinting away in a panic. He no longer cared about getting to his car, but instead climbed onto the fire escape and hurried down, feet clanging against the metal bars. In his haste, about halfway down, he missed his footing and slid the rest of the way, landing on his ankle with a sickening crunch. Too scared to feel the pain, he forced himself up and kept on going. He didn’t look dare look back.


	17. Hello Officer (17th April 2003)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Nile help Erwin celebrate becoming a Police Officer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with us on this wild ride of a fic! It has ended up with a complicated plot, so we're going to start adding some chapter summaries to help with navigation. 
> 
> We also wanted to give appreciation for all the comments, kudos and views! We appreciate every single one and they mean so much to us. <3 We love writing this and it's amazing to know so many of you are enjoying reading it. :)  
-ClarissaNotFound

On the other side of town, an elated Erwin was humming as he went about his evening, zipping cheerfully around his tiny flat as he cooked, exercised then finally settled in to do some reading. He had a cup of hot chocolate by his side, his favourite warm socks on, some music playing on the radio; it was a good night.

The ring of the door was a surprise, and he sighed sorrowfully at having to disturb his peace to answer it, but when he did he was glad. He felt a happy leap in his heart to see Mike and Nile standing there outside, bottles in their hands.

For them, he didn't mind a different kind of evening, and he realised he should have expected it after his news today. "Hey, I just made a hot chocolate," Erwin said brightly.

"Great," Nile said sarcastically. "You can start by throwing that away, old man."

Erwin decided not to dignify that with a response, and allowed Nile to push his way past and set two plastic bags on Erwin's table. Mike followed, shaking a smaller bottle of whisky at Erwin with a grin.

"You didn't make any plans to celebrate?" Nile asked, as he unpacked several more glass bottles. "What, you thought the force wouldn't want you?" He scoffed as if it was a ridiculous idea.

"I didn't want to get my hopes up," Erwin confessed, closing the door behind them. "Just in case.” He rearranged some odd items, a TV guide, a blanket, a jumper, moving to make room in the small living space for all three of them to sit.

“But obviously it’s great, and looking forward to making my first proper arrest. No more detaining and waiting for one of you to show up..." He chuckled as he grabbed a few mismatched glasses from the cupboard and placed them on the table. He smiled as he recalled the one time he had detained someone in his duties as PCSO, and Nile had shown up as the arresting officer. All the mockery about 'playing cops' was something he would have to get some payback for, now that he was on equal footing with his friends.

"Don't expect anything big," Nile advised, flicking the bottlecap off a cider and handing it to Erwin. "I wanted a murderer or an arsonist in week one, and all I got was minor domestics and false alarms for months. We can't all get lucky."

He jerked his head towards Mike, getting an unimpressed look in response.

"...Call that lucky?" Mike demanded.

Nile grinned, turning back to Erwin. "Genius here was on a normal patrol and got rugby tackled by some half-naked pervert."

"Day three on the job," Mike cut in as Nile nodded.

"Uh-huh. Day three. He gets out of his car and some freak manages to run straight into him. Turns out he's one of those deviants who gets off on flashing his junk at unsuspecting people in parking lots. Except--" Nile's voice was cracking now, laughing at Mike's misfortune. "He was running towards some woman's car when Mike opened his door. Barrelled straight into it."

The big cop shook his head disapprovingly. "Dented my car on week one."

Nile clipped him across the head. "As if anyone cared. He caught a sexual predator. He was a hero in the station."

"Wasn't worth it," Mike groused with a shudder. "I saw everything. Fell flat on his back with his coat wide open."

Erwin settled down onto the chair beside his friends, eyes wide as he listened to the story, laughing when Mike described his woes over the dented car and being flashed himself.

"So you were also a victim of the crime," he chuckled. Once he had stopped himself from shaking with amusement he took a swig of his cider, pleasantly fruity and sweet. "Why have I not heard that story before?" He looked with mock-accusation between the two of them.

Nile joined in the laughing. Mike did not. "It's not a fond memory," he said.

"I don't mind if it's an exciting first week or not," Erwin confessed, his tone becoming enthusiastic. "I really want to get into some cases - that's what I'm interested in, the investigation work. Putting all the pieces of something together, working it all out..."

"Ah, detective work," Nile said. "You'll get a few eventually. Keep your head down for a while, though." His voice took on a warning tone, all too aware of his friend's bad habits of putting his head above the parapet. "You won't see much of the chief, but he's old-school. Don't start re-writing all our policies and bombarding him with new ideas in week one." He grinned over the top of his bottle. "Rookie."

He hadn’t been going to admit it to anyone, but Erwin had already daydreamed about how he could make changes; he’d imagined the satisfaction of being able to adjust policies and improve systems, at impressing the chief and his new colleagues, of his ideas excelling and being accepted. At Nile’s words, he looked like a child caught sneaking a cookie.

“You got me,” Erwin replied, holding up his hands. “I had been thinking about that, and I’ve already read a few things I think could be improved..” He frowned a little. “Surely the chief is open to improvements though?” Nile made it sound like he wouldn’t be, and Erwin glanced between him and Mike, trying to gauge if he had read between the lines correctly, hoping he was wrong. “...and how did you know that’s what I was going to do?”

Mike snorted with laughter. “That’s what you _always_ do, Erwin.”

Nile swilled the cider in his bottle distractedly as he answered. “Things change when they have to, but tradition reigns supreme most of the time.” He took a gulp then continued. “It’s better that way. We’ve got enough to do. There’s no time to revolutionise everything.”

“Having too much work to do isn’t a good excuse not to make changes,” Erwin argued, eyebrow raised. “What if the changes could make things more efficient?” He sighed. He had been hoping the impression he’d had of Chief Shadis was wrong, but when Mike unscrewed the bottle of whisky they became distracted and the conversation moved on for a while to lighter things. An hour or so and a good number of empty bottles later, Erwin remembered the unfinished conversation and waited for a lull to bring it up again.

“Look, I’ve been thinking,” he said, slouched back on the sofa with a glass of whisky in his hand. “And _if_ the chief doesn’t _like_ hearing any ideas I have, well... I don’t think that’s a reason for me not to say them. I’m saying, if I believe they’re good then I won’t be doing a good job if I keep them to myself. They could make a positive difference. My Dad said to me that he believed doing the right thing - the good thing - is important but not easy, and I want to... be someone that he’d be proud of. _I_ want to do the right thing.”

Mike listened intently to Erwin’s words, not entirely surprised by his friend’s idealistic attitude. On the other hand, Nile sighed, but his tone was softened by the mention of Erwin’s bereavement. The alcohol didn’t hurt, either.

“Look. Don’t compromise your morals. But don’t expect the job to change. You’re getting into one of the most traditional organisations out there, Erwin…” He gesticulated and pointed animatedly as he spoke. “They’re not waiting for a… a _neophyte_ to come and... _restructure_. Tell him, Mike.”

Mike nodded sagely. He might be buzzed, but he was nowhere near Nile’s level of drunkenness. “They are pretty resistant. There’s a lot of veterans who’ve been here for years. Set in their ways.” He tried to read Erwin’s face, but couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or whether their warnings had been completely disregarded.

Erwin felt grateful to have his friends here, even if they weren't telling him what he would have liked to hear. He smiled at them, despite the disappointment.

“Why should my being new matter?” he said, then relented. “I… fine, but I’m not going to hold back, I will just find the optimal moment to give my ideas. If I have to wait for a while..” He trailed off with a shrug, sure they understood his point. He could be patient. That didn’t mean he wasn’t doing the right thing, it just meant he was delaying it until he was sure it would be successful. He hoped Dad would be proud of him being smart about his principles.

“You can still make a difference and do the right thing,” Nile reassured him. “Arrest the bad guys. Resolve arguments. Clothesline a pervert with your car.”

Mike rolled his eyes, then spoke seriously. “How could he not be proud? You made it. You’re an officer.”

Being on the crux of this new part of his life, Erwin’s head was suddenly full of thoughts about what his father would have expected, what he would have thought about everything his son had done. Mike’s words gave him some comfort.

“Yeah, he would be, but that’s because he was that kind of person,” he replied. “He would have been proud of _any_ achievements of mine. But..” He paused to think for a moment, about what he had been planning to do with his life before his Dad’s death, and he slumped his shoulders, a morose feeling overcoming him. “...this isn’t what I was _going_ to do. Things are...so different, without him.”

Mike and Nile exchanged a glance.

“What was he like?” Nile directed his question more at Mike than Erwin, who looked lost in thought.

“Nice guy,” Mike said, putting a hand on Erwin’s shoulder. “Used to let me crash at their house sometimes so I didn’t have to bus it home. Easygoing. Always buried in a book.”

Nile cast an eye over Erwin’s bookshelves. “That bit must be genetic.” Anything that made Erwin feel closer to his Dad, or like him in any way, gave him a bit of happiness and it was obvious that the comparison was welcome. 

“He _was_ always reading, or writing an article, or researching an article,” he replied. The memories that came to him were fond ones; walking up to the desk in the office when Dad was typing away on his computer with a pile of notes and papers by his side, poking his arm and asking him some questions about his homework or for a snack, sometimes getting a Dad who was happy for the excuse to have a break and sometimes getting a Dad who was frustrated to be interrupted in the middle of a thought. Erwin couldn’t remember him ever turning that onto his son, at least not in any serious way.

Nile had known that Erwin took some time to follow Mike into the force, but he’d never asked about it before. “What were you going to do before this lumbering idiot recruited you?”

“I was going to be a teacher.” Erwin awoke out of his reverie, shaking his head and gesturing at Mike. “It wasn’t him who persuaded me to change my career, it was...it just seemed right. _I_ persuaded me. After what happened to Dad, his murder...”

Nile nodded, and the three sat in heavy silence for a moment. Mike reflected on his grandfather’s death when he was at school, and that had hit him hard enough. To imagine losing a parent was ten times worse. Especially _this_ parent.

“Never got solved, did it?” Nile said solemnly. “Did they get anywhere with it?” It wasn’t one of his cases, and if it had been, he would have recused himself because of the personal connection. 

“No, never,” Erwin shook his head, finishing his glass of whisky but barely tasting it, distracted by his thoughts. He was usually able to keep this all inside and locked down, something only to be allowed out now and again in private. Normally the idea of his friends seeing him this vulnerable and having a conversation like this one would have been unpleasant, and maybe tomorrow he would look back on this and worry about the changed impression they must have of him, but for now he wanted nothing more than to let it all out.

“There was some investigation, but...they didn’t make any arrests. I tried to show the officers at the time some of the articles Dad had been writing, about drug rings, to show them another lead but they...dismissed it.” He shrugged, remembering the helpless feeling, the unfinished business. He remembered how empty the world had felt then. He also remembered how Mike had been there for him.

Nile opened his mouth, feeling some obligation to defend the police force’s lack of action, but Mike looked at him meaningfully and shook his head. Silence reigned again.

“You’ll turn this into a positive,” Nile said eventually. “Dealing with victims is… well. I hate it. He’s useless at it too. You’ll be better.”

“And old cases get re-opened sometimes,” Mike suggested. Now it was his turn to get a glare, while Erwin was distracted, hand out towards the whisky bottle, demanding another. The last thing Nile wanted was for Erwin to be encouraged to shake things up, turn up old evidence and resurrect long-dead cases. Smith’s tenacity was a great asset and a curse, and he needed reining in, not encouraging.

“Supporting victims will be rewarding,” the blond agreed. “I’m hoping to help ensure there are less victims in the first place for the two of you to deal with. And I want...I want to find whoever killed my Dad, if I can. I know, I know-,” He looked at his friends with a hard look in his eyes, anticipating their objections before they even arose. “--it’s unlikely. But someone did kill him, and whoever they are is still out there somewhere. Maybe they’ll slip up again. If they do, I want to be there.” He knew it was a long shot, and genuinely didn’t expect anything to come of it, but he was patient. At least he could do some good and if something did come up he was in the right place to act on it.

Neither of his friends could argue. It wasn’t as if Erwin was mistaken, or it was grief talking. The manner of his father’s death proved beyond any doubt that he had been murdered. It was no accident. More like an assassination.

“I’ve never seen another murder like that,” Nile said eventually. “You’ll struggle to catch them if they quit after one.” It was a sad state of affairs, but since the murderer had apparently only killed once, it seemed they had gotten away with it. The case was closed. Unless they suddenly came out of retirement and started killing again, he thought Erwin’s dream of putting them behind bars was beyond reach.

“I’m not...pinning my life on it,” Erwin said, not looking his friends in the eye. “It just felt right, to join the police, after that happened. I couldn’t imagine doing anything else.” He thought about the life he thought he’d have, back before he’d lost Dad, and it seemed strange and hollow. “The idea of being a teacher feels like another life, or another person’s dream. I’m not the same person anymore.”

He glanced up at Nile and sighed, hesitating, wondering something that he’d never felt bold enough to ask his friends yet. “Now I’m an officer, will I be able to access the file on that case? For...my own interest.”

"Erwin..." Nile took on a stern tone again, but Mike leaned in and shoved another bottle his way as he interrupted.

"I think it's for the best if you stay out of the closed cases," he said, but he nodded behind Nile's back as the older man moved to retrieve the bottle-opener. "Not that anyone can see the files you choose to read," he added meaningfully, eyebrows raised in a silent communication meant just for Erwin. "But you'll be busy enough with current work."

Signal received, Erwin gave Mike the briefest of smiles while Nile was still looking the other way. Mike softened his tone. "Keeping busy might do you some good, friend."

“I’m sure I will be very busy,” Erwin answered, as if conceding the point. “It’s just a thought that crosses my mind, a temptation, but if I have plenty of work to do then..” He let the thought hang in the air, shrugging his shoulders. “Besides, like you say, it’s not as if there are a string of unsolved cases I can investigate. I just think a lot about why it happened, that’s all.” The alcohol had thrown off Erwin’s inhibitions over talking so openly, and he felt as if every thought he’d ever had about it was threatening to spill from him. “Why would anyone do that to someone like him? He was just a normal man - a good man - doing his job.” He thought about all the articles his Dad had written. It still did seem over the top that someone would go so far to silence him, and yet...they had. Someone had.

Nile thought about how long he'd known Erwin, and added it up. He met Mike when the younger cop started his training, and they had a joint party that year after finding out they were born on the same day.

Mike had invited his old school friend Erwin. Little had he suspected that they would all find themselves on the force together. Erwin was a friend of a friend, not much more, and had expressed no interest in police work until after the death of his father. By that point Nile himself had been a cop for two years and Mike officially for just six months.

Their worlds had been tipped upside down. It shook the station. Nile thought the news was shocking, and he was only tangentially related to the victim, hadn't even met Erwin's father. So he couldn't begrudge Erwin the temptation to look through the files. He didn't want it taking over the man's life or jeopardising his career, though.

Mike knew better. He knew just how much of that sharp mind was already occupied with these thoughts.

“I’m just glad to be a real police officer now,” Erwin concluded, more for the benefit of his friends than himself. “To do some good.”

"Yeah, plenty of good," Nile said, eager to encourage Erwin's sensible side even as he poured dashes of whisky into three small glasses. "Even the boring stuff is important. Patrols, traffic stops, hell, even the paperwork. You'll make a difference. Your dad would see that."

He divided the glasses, clinking his against Erwin's, voice full of sincerity, only emboldened by alcohol. "You'll make a difference."

Nile's heartfelt words touched Erwin, his heart swelling. Once again he felt grateful to be here with his friends, and glad they had come to see him tonight, to celebrate his fortune. He half wished he hadn't talked about his Dad, worried now that he'd brought down the mood, so he resolved to cheer things up. He took the offered glass and returned the gesture before taking a swig.

"I'm sure I'll enjoy even those things you call boring," he said with a chuckle. "Being a PCSO has been fun - I'm ready now to do more, to get more involved." With the atmosphere turned somewhat sentimental, he felt emboldened to add; "You guys encouraged me, and I'm… grateful. I wouldn't be here without you."

Mike gave Erwin a thumbs-up, then clapped Nile hard on the shoulder as he sank his whisky. The smaller man practically convulsed under the weight of that hand, teeth rattling.

"For the love of--!" He glowered at the big guy as he slid the bottle of whisky out of reach. "That's enough for you. You'll give me a concussion, acting like that."


	18. No Comment (18th April 2003)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi is arrested by inspectors Petra and Oluo for threatening one of Kenny's associates.

When the two officers stepped into the large warehouse, the reaction to them was mixed. Some people kept working, some only pretended. Several pairs of eyes were fixated on the floor and others darted their way from time to time.

“This is creepy,” Oluo said, and Petra had to resist the urge to elbow him in the ribs for being so tactless, only her professionalism stopping her. She kept walking, eyes moving from side to side, scanning the line of workers for their target.

“There,” she said quietly, gesturing in the direction of the dark-haired man. “Is Ackerman still watching?” She glanced at Oluo to see him nod. Kenny hadn’t said a word, simply threw open the door and pointed them towards his nephew.

Petra took the lead, and walked down the line of machines and boxes, right up to Levi’s side.

“Mr Ackerman,” she began, waiting to be acknowledged, but her target steadfastly looked straight down, adding up merchandise prices and ticking down his list with a pen.

_Check. Check. Check._

Eventually he looked up, but not at her; for a split second his gaze connected with Kenny's in the distance. The older man nodded back.

Their rudeness made the female officer scowl, carrying on a silent conversation when she was trying to get his attention. Returning the favour, she looked straight at her fellow officer, and he gave her a serious simple nod.

"Levi Ackerman," she said sternly, and Oluo took it as a sign, reaching for his handcuffs. "I am arresting you on suspicion of grievous bodily harm. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence.”

"On your feet," Oluo demanded, standing behind Levi. The suspect sighed heavily and held his hands out as soon as he heard the first clink of the handcuffs. 

"Hands behind your…” The officer trailed off. “Peh, you must be used to this."

Apparently seeing his compliance, the male cop wasn't too rough with him, and soon the pair were leading him off. A cursory scan over the room showed Levi that all his colleagues were pointedly looking away. Kenny kept his position like a watchdog, arms folded as he leaned in the warehouse door.

"See you tonight," Levi said, as the officers led him past. It was designed to irritate and it hit home.

Petra pointedly ignored him, but Oluo made an exasperated sound. It was maddening to know that this man just kept getting away with it, but did he have to rub it in?

"Hey, hey," he complained. "You won't be back for a long time, Ackerman. Tonight? We’ll see..." He continued to mutter as he led Levi outside, 

Kenny remained motionless but for a smirk spreading across his face, and Levi looked up at the officer with a cocky expression. It mirrored his uncle's behind him.

"Don't gloat," Petra said impatiently, glancing back as they reached the door. These people, they were so _arrogant_. Neither Ackerman looked concerned about the arrest, not one bit. 

Their detainee followed silently to the car until Oluo tried to bundle him in the back, making him stop dead in his tracks.

"Don't touch me," Levi said, voice icy and quiet, before climbing in by himself.

He said nothing on the drive to the station, though Oluo chattered away as usual. Petra got the distinct impression he was trying to impress her by talking himself up, but she couldn’t begrudge it. He was only bragging about things that were true; he did have an impressively high arrest and conviction rate. Everyone knew he kept a tally on his desk. He was going to be so annoyed if Ackerman Junior got off again and ruined his current running score.

Once they were settled in an interrogation room, Petra read over the victim statement one more time while Oluo set up.

"Interview with Levi Ackerman commences at 2.26pm, officers present Inspector Oluo Bozado and Inspector Petra Ral.”

Petra opened up the questioning. "Mr Ackerman, you have been accused of inflicting grievous bodily harm upon Mr Sebastian Dachtler on the evening of the 17th April."

Rather than looking at her, Levi's face was turned sharply in profile, as if he was bored and talking to the wall instead.

"So?"

Oluo frowned, then leaned in. "So let's begin with where you were at the time. The evening of 17th April. It's just yesterday. You haven't forgotten already, have you?"

"No comment."

The officers remained stony-faced, staring him down.

"You realise that it looks very bad for you if you suddenly make up a story after giving us the silent treatment," Oluo said, smugness lacing his tone. "No court is going to believe that. It's a simple question, for an innocent man. Where were you?"

Levi's dark eyes flicked towards Oluo instead. "No comment."

The officer held back a sigh. He'd seen this before. In his first month, his own superior officer had arrested Levi Ackerman, getting the exact same treatment. It looked like an open and shut case, until the victim had suddenly recalled that they hadn't been assaulted at all; they had fallen on a loose paving-stone.

Just a few months later, Ackerman was back, and still not speaking. Again, the victim changed their story. Almost every officer in the station had pleaded with them not to recant, but they steadfastly insisted that they must have been mistaken when they reported that Levi had held a knife to their throat and bruised them up. It was, in fact, a tall blonde woman who they suddenly couldn't identify.

This was the third time Oluo was personally involved. The two previous ones had led to nothing. He was desperate to do anything to get a conviction this time. He would have sent officers to guard Sebastian Dachtler, but the man was still in hospital. The staff were on speed dial if any foul play was suspected.

"You have a history, don't you?" He opened the folder, whistling through his teeth at the photo of Sannes' injuries, comparing them to Dachtler’s. "Would you say you have a bad temper, Mr Ackerman?"

Levi's lip curled, just the hint of a smile. "No comment."

Petra looked over Oluo's shoulder, at the contents of the file, then back up at Levi with a steely gaze. He'd made such a mess of Dachtler it was hard to see how the man could ever reasonably give another excuse for his injuries.

"Come on Mr Ackerman," she said. "You can't just blank us and expect it to work. You can see the state of Mr Dachtler." She pushed the photograph across the table. "It certainly looks like you have a bad temper, wouldn't you agree?" She glanced at Oluo and shook her head. "Makes me wonder what would drive someone to do something this violent. So how about you explain to us your reasons, hm? Or shall we take a guess..?"

"No comme--"

"No _need!_" Oluo stabbed the file with an index finger. He’d rather headbutt the wall than hear those words one more time. "Mr Dachtler was very forthcoming. Business with your uncle, is it?"

The only answer was a withering stare, so he continued. "You thought Mr Dachtler was gossiping about your uncle, and you silenced him with your fists. Pretty... extreme, no?" He leaned over, palms flat on the table, and his suspect looked aside again.

"Just gossip makes you react like that? A little harmless chit-chat?"

Levi wondered how long he was going to have to listen to this. First Dachtler, now this guy. If this was the officer that took Seb's statement, then it must have taken hours.

"I can't imagine punching someone over gossip. You threw him. You broke _bones_. Didn't you."

Levi fought to keep the reaction off his face, but his eyes quickly met the officer's again. He didn't think he had broken any bones. "No comment."

Oluo threw Petra a triumphant look, designed to get under Levi's skin. "If you can't learn to co-operate, then perhaps we need to be investigating this gossip, see if there's any truth in the rumours about your uncle."

He dangled it like a sword, but Levi didn't react. Kenny gave the police little reason to look at him, and Levi had to trust that he had contingency plans if they ever did.

"What would you say to that, hm?" he prompted.

Levi looked at him, blinking, silently counting to five. He could practically hear Oluo holding his breath.

"No comment."

Petra held back a sigh. It wasn't as if Levi was the first suspect to stonewall them, but somehow coming from him it was endlessly frustrating. He looked so calm, as if nothing could touch him, with only the same two emotionless words coming from his mouth. Nothing phased him.

"Enjoy this while you can," she said in a sharp tone. "This is no joke. You should take this more seriously, Mr Ackerman - you're looking at a prison sentence for this." She stared at him, hands folded on the table. "Which will be for longer if you don't cooperate with us now. As DI Bozado said, we can always start looking into the nature of the gossip, the relationship between Mr Dachtler and your uncle's business. There are many avenues we can explore."

Levi raised an eyebrow. "Then explore."

With a laboured sigh, Oluo sifted through the file and retrieved a two page document, holding it so that it was visible to himself and Petra but not to Levi on the other side of the table.

"According to Mr Dachtler, you..." He tracked a finger along the page, picking out key elements. "...cornered him at your uncle's warehouse, and accused him of frequenting a strip club - a claim which he strenuously denies."

Levi rolled his eyes. He should have expected Sebastian to play it that way.

"Tell me why you care whether Mr Dachtler goes to strip clubs?"

"No comment."

"Is there something Mr Dachtler isn't telling us about your conversation? Something to explain your bad temper, perhaps?"

"No comment."

Oluo seethed. "This course of action is not very well-advised. Perhaps you would like to call a lawyer."

Levi had never been advised to call a lawyer by his arresting officer before. Perhaps they were so sick of his silence that they thought any answer was an improvement. He was glad to dash their hopes.

"No thanks."

"You are refusing a lawyer?" Petra said. "I must repeat that we advise you to speak to someone who can represent you legally."

Levi wasn't buying it. Cops never wanted you to call a lawyer. These guys were just sick of getting nothing from him and had decided that even a lawyer was better than stonewalling.

“I won’t need it.”

His confidence would have been suspicious, except that he had been slipped away so many times before. Petra looked at the papers again. There was no way this was about some strip club visits but that wasn't the main issue here. 

"Listen, Mr Ackerman," she continued. "You may have been lucky the last few times you were brought in, but this time is different. Mr Dachtler will testify, and all this time that you spend refusing to comment and refusing a lawyer will only come back to hurt you. Confess now, tell us what happened, and maybe we can get you a shorter sentence." She paused for a moment to let that sink in, then continued. "Perhaps there's someone putting pressure on you? If there is, we can protect you - if you talk to us. We can't help you unless you help us."

He rolled his eyes at her prodding. Were they hoping to get to Kenny through him...?

"No comment."

"I assure you we will push for the hardest sentence..." Oluo spoke low, intensely, meaning every word. "Your lack of co-operation, your prior conviction and the grievous nature of the injuries..." He tutted, shaking his head like a father disappointed in his son, even though his suspect was markedly older than him.

"You'll be looking at a custodial sentence for sure. So, magnanimously, I am giving you a chance to reconsider your answers."

"No. _Comment._"

This was impossible. Petra thought it obvious now that Levi wasn't going to give them anything, no matter what they said or offered. Either he didn't care if he went to prison or not, or he just thought that he would get off again somehow.

"We're wasting our time," she said, as if she was talking to Oluo, but she continued to look straight at Levi. "I've got better things to do than listen to him refuse to talk. The charges won’t be dropped this time. Mr Dachtler is _very_ concerned about the idea of such a dangerous man back out on the streets. I almost feel sorry for Ackerman - backed into a corner like this."

The two officers looked at him with identical expressions, then left one after another. Levi sighed when he was alone, wondering how long it would take Kenny to get on the case this time.

Meanwhile, at a safe distance away from the room, Oluo was showing Petra his phone, still blank. "No news." It was a good sign that Dachtler was still secure in the hospital. If nothing changed then the suspect would go down for this, but he still seemed so confident. Oluo was going to lose his mind if Dachtler suddenly declared his injuries self-inflicted.

"Perhaps we should consider protective custody..." He folded his arms, tapping his fingers, jittery. He could see this all slipping away so easily. "For someone on the hook, he's not very concerned."

"The opposite," Petra muttered, leaning against the wall. "He's completely calm and I don't know why. It doesn't make any sense. Have you ever met anyone who was so unconcerned by prison?" She racked her brains to think of the suspects she had interrogated, and a few came to mind. Usually only jail-hardened recidivists were this unflustered by the idea of prison, but Levi Ackerman had never been jailed before.

"He doesn't think it'll happen." Oluo didn't know why, but Ackerman expected to skip imprisonment again. "He's gotten away before, and now he's cocky."

"We should concentrate on making sure Dachtler doesn't back out of his testimony. I wish we could move him into protective custody now."

Oluo rubbed his chin, frowning. "The nurses are on standby. But it can't just be the threat of violence... we've offered protective custody before..." He knew there was some other unidentified reason that the charges were always dropped, and hoped that Dachtler wouldn't succumb to it, whatever it was. "Let's just move him to the cells for now. He's useless to us."

They made their way back to the interrogation rooms, but as soon as he opened the door, Levi spoke.

"I want my phone call."

"You - want?" Oluo stopped dead in the doorway, Petra behind him.

The suspect stared unblinking from across the table. "My phone call. I want it now."

\---------------------------------------------------

Despite the frown on his face, Uri was a picture of serenity in comparison to Kenny. The taller man was marching back and forth in the corridor, pointing at a figure who wasn't there.

"You ain't ever selling again in this city, d'ya hear me?" he said venomously. "No no - never mind _sellin',_ you're never _buyin'_ in this town. None of my people are risking their hides givin' you a single - fucking - diluted - shitty - goddamn **gram!** Blacklisted!"

Uri could only catch the starts of sentences on the other end before Kenny kept cutting in. He muted the television.

"So get the fuck over it!" Kenny practically punched the air. "You'll be dying for a hit this time next week and no fucker is gonna give it to you!"

"Don't give me that shit, you --" He stopped, obviously listening, giving the other person just seconds to speak. "So change the fuckin' story, then!"

There was silence, but Kenny's eyes were still flashing with fury as he listened again. It was obvious he was brimming with anger, but instead of shouting, his voice lowered to a murmur. He enunciated every word so clearly that Uri could have read his lips.

"Do you have _any_ idea who you're fucking with, Dachtler?"

Uri leaned back on the couch, watching the silent figures of the footballers running back and forth, Kenny raving somewhere in the corridor. When he came back in the room, no longer yelling down the phone, Uri turned to him. He could tell from the seething look that it hadn't gone well.

"He's refusing to budge? Usually your hollering does the job." He would have smiled in amusement, but he knew Kenny was still in a foul mood so he held back. "Sit down already, your hovering is annoying." He thumbed at the empty spot next to him.

Kenny threw himself onto the sofa, hands slapping down on his thighs. "That son of a bitch. He'll jail for this."

It was obvious he thought Levi was doomed. "Thought you said he didn't do that much damage. He'll get off on suspended sentence."

The taller man lay back, hands over his face. "No chance. He’s got the prior from Djel, and besides, Seb’s got a broken ankle."

Uri's attention snapped to his friend at that, aghast at how far Levi had taken it. Kenny peered through his bony fingers.

"Don't fuckin' gawk at me. Levi didn't do that. Seb must've fucked himself up and he's pinning it on him."

Uri looked down and picked at the label on his glass bottle thoughtfully. Did he really believe that Levi hadn't broken bones to buy Dachtler's silence? It didn't matter. It was plausible. The police would definitely charge him.

"You made them retract the statement every other time. Maybe Dachtler will change his mind?"

"Yeah, well... I threaten their supply and they get all compliant. _Yes sir, Mr Ackerman, how high sir?_" His gruff laughter was short-lived. "None of them want protective custody because you can’t get shit when you’re there. When you need a hit a day, last thing you want is cops at your door…”

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, one leg twitching, speaking at a mile a minute. Anyone could have seen that Kenny’s nerves were frayed.

“Except Seb's skipping town. Got spooked and now he's going down to the fuckin' coast. Says his folks live there. I can blacklist him from any seller in a hundred miles but I got no reach that far."

There was a heavy silence, then the phone rang again. "Eh?" He glared at it, an unknown number, then answered. short-tempered, expecting Dachtler again.

_"What."_

"Kenny. It's me."

"Levi!" Kenny exclaimed. Uri looked across, the pair silently looking at each other with dread in their eyes. "What's the charge?"

In the prison, Levi looked over his shoulder, suspicious of being watched. "GBH."

Kenny groaned, running a hand down his face again. The voice on the phone nagged at him. "What? ... _What?_ Kenny?"

Uri reached over, taking the phone gently but insistently. When Kenny finally relinquished it, he spoke instead.

"Hello, Levi - it's Uri. How are you?"

Levi was getting slightly rattled. His uncle's silence and Uri's sudden appearance were not good signs. "In prison, how the fuck do you think I am?"

"Yeah... see... your uncle is working hard on it, but the victim, he's... very stubborn."

Hearing that, Levi closed his eyes. Dachtler was going to press charges, even if it left him going cold turkey from heroin. He must have been vengeful enough to withstand Kenny's threats. "What do I do?"

"Maybe you should consider co-operating with the police for now--"

Both Ackermans snapped at that, Levi swearing down the line, and Kenny snatching back the phone furiously.

"Like fuck he will! Levi, it's me. Just hold off, and I'll apply the thumbscrews. Buy time."

His nephew didn't answer, hanging up the phone. Kenny put his down beside him, leaning over, head in his hands. "I'm gonna cut Seb's fuckin' throat," he growled.

His friend gingerly patted his back. "That won't help."

"It'd help me."

Despite everything, Uri couldn't help but laugh.


	19. Confidants (26th September 2003)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin confides in Mike after researching a criminal named Levi Ackerman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody, we hope you are all doing okay during the pandemic measures. Keep yourselves safe, stay home, play video games, write fanfiction 🖤 --MercuryRising
> 
> -

"Hey, Erwin, how's about--"

Mike leaned around the door frame to the copying room, just in time to hear a rustling as Erwin flicked his papers all over the floor.

He stared, blinking, as Erwin put a hand over his chest. "You scared the life out of me," he practically gasped.

Mike furrowed his brows in confusion. "...Yeah. I’m real stealthy. All six foot four of me."

Erwin gave him a deadpan look, collecting up his papers and standing directly in front of the machine, which was still churning out more. Their eyes met and it was obvious Mike had figured him out.

"What you printing there, buddy?"

"Just a file," Erwin replied. "Research for a case." He managed to keep the guilty look off his face as he smiled at his friend. "It will be done soon, if you need to use the machine." 

He watched Mike’s expression closely, trying to decide which way to play this, but his friend just mirrored him, the two of them tight-lipped and stoic facing each other, each waiting for the other to give ground.

"Actually, I was looking for you. Found a Greek place on Richmond I wanted to try for lunch. Was going to bring Nile along too, but..." He drew himself up, subtly peering over Erwin at the stack of papers. "Think I'll leave him out of it today."

He gave the younger cop a meaningful look. He knew it was hopeless trying to figure out what was really going on, unless Erwin chose to confide in him. And he might confide in Mike, but not if Nile was around.

"What do you say?"

As the photocopier finally shuddered to a halt, spitting out the last piece of paper, Erwin turned to take the bundle into his arms making sure to keep it hidden, the top piece of paper showing nothing obvious.

"I thought Nile said he doesn't really like Mediterranean food," Erwin answered, words deliberate and carefully chosen. "So I'll just drop these off at my desk first."

"Just us then." Mike was tempted to peek at Erwin's records; he wasn't Erwin's superior, but he'd been a cop for longer and could probably insist. It seemed heavy-handed so he let it go. "I'll swing by in 10."

With a nod, Erwin hurried back to his desk and shuffled the paperwork quickly into the waiting empty file, which he locked safely into the drawer with a soft click. The key was tucked into the pocket of his battered leather satchel and zipped closed. Meanwhile, Mike found an excuse to kill ten minutes, giving Erwin some time. Soon enough, his friend was ready, and they made small talk on the way to the Greek bistro, pointedly avoiding the subject of work. Superiors were quick to remind you that anyone could be listening in to your gossip. Journalists picked up all kinds of things from loose-lipped officers.

It wasn't until they settled down after placing their order that Mike decided to gently address the elephant in the room. He'd noticed that the more his friend was watched, the more he closed up. Instead he had to hope that Erwin would choose to answer.

"So what are you working on today?"

Erwin froze for a second, weighing up his answers. He trusted Mike, as his friend. But now he was a cop and Mike was also his colleague. He had to decide if that changed anything about keeping him as a confidant in this matter, and try not to get too carried away over what he'd found.

"Just mundane things mostly," he offered at last. "Nothing but antisocial behaviour stuff seems to end up my way - is that because I'm a rookie, or is there just always a lot of it?"

"There's lots," Mike answered truthfully, but Erwin only responded with a soft chuckle, then they both fell silent as the waiter brought over some small plates of bread and olives, and took their orders. He was thankful when Erwin picked up the conversation again, albeit in a faux-casual tone.

"Apart from that, I... got curious about a case, started looking up some background on it. A Levi Ackerman got sentenced yesterday. You saw it? 6 months for GBH."

"Nope." Mike poured a liberal amount of olive oil into his small dish, acting nonchalant.

“You don’t know it?” Erwin was slightly shocked. “Sebastian Dachtler? He hobbled into court on crutches to testify in person.” That alone had caught Erwin’s attention, since the fight happened back in April and a broken ankle would be long healed by the time sentencing finally took place. He suspected Dachtler was a tad melodramatic. “That’s not memorable enough for you?”

"I don't know much about cases that aren't mine. Perp’s name is familiar though. Levi… Ackerman? Repeat offender?"

Although too on edge to be really hungry, Erwin nonetheless took some of the bread and ate, wanting to hide his level of investment in this case. He wanted to ignore the butterflies and keep his heart rate down until he was certain as to Mike's intent.

"Yes - you arrested him actually, a few years ago," he said. "He beat up a fellow, an older man named Sannes, in the early hours. Ring any bells?" He watched Mike over the top of his glass of water as he took a long, slow sip.

"Oh yeah..." Mike answered, voice drawn out as he cast his mind back. "Tiny guy. Beat the hell out of his dad's friend, or something."

"His uncle’s, actually," Erwin corrected gently. He was wondering if that slip had been intentional, but it wasn’t. Mike only vaguely remembered it as one of those late-night arrests with Nile, before Nile started climbing the ranks. "At it again, is he?" 

"It seems he is. It's funny though, when I looked, because there are a few odd connections with this family - these Ackermans. You ever heard their name much before?"

"Just Levi. Rico arrested him again a few months after that incident with the old guy, but nothing came of it. Dunno why. Did a ton of damage to another older guy, had no motive at all so she assumed he’d be coked up, but I’m pretty sure his tests were clean. Probably just mad violent."

He dunked some bread into the olive oil, hoping this was all about to become clear. He hadn’t come close to figuring out why Erwin even cared about this person. "So there’s more of them?”

“Just one that I know of… Levi’s uncle, a man named Kenny.”

“And… he’s delinquent too?"

"Not in so much as arrests, but... almost all of his associates have criminal records, and his name seems to come up a lot without anything sticking. You’ve been in this job a while now - would that be enough to make you suspicious about someone? If you see them on the fringes of this kind of activity, but they seem to always be just out of reach?" Erwin’s fingers were flexing and relaxing into a gentle fist as he spoke, as if he was picturing a thread slipping from his grasp.

"Suspicious, yeah." Mike nodded. "There's a lot of people we don't manage to pin down. Doesn't make them innocent."

"That's what I was thinking," Erwin said quietly, nodding back at Mike. "I'm sure something must have been missed, maybe more than something... most likely a few things." 

Mike folded his arms, eyeing the other man. So this is why he was cagey about his printing; he was delving into cases that weren’t even his own. Exactly what Nile had feared.

"Court transcripts take a stupid long time to complete. Maybe twelve business days. Search Ackerman again in a few weeks and there'll be more attached to his record. You'll be able to read his whole trial." It wasn't clear to him why his friend had picked this thread to unravel, and Nile would kill him if he knew how much he was encouraging Erwin to go off-leash. But Mike didn't see the harm. 

Erwin was grateful for the tip and he smiled at his friend. The conversation paused for a moment as a cheerful waiter laid their plates down in front of them, refilled their drinks and shuffled off again once more.

"I'll check back on it then,” the blond continued. “And you'll keep it on the low key? If anyone but you knew I was so interested in this.."

"Not gonna say anything, but no, I’ve got no idea why you're interested," Mike confessed.

Erwin made a thoughtful noise, then decided to confide in him. He needed to know if he could trust Mike in the future, and here was a good place to start. That, and he found himself needing to share ideas and theories with someone. An old friend with law enforcement expertise was a good choice.

"These are the ones involved in my Dad's case," he said finally.

It earned him an immediate frown. Mike had always known that Erwin was going to look into his father's murder, and now he knew that he was investigating the Ackermans, but he would never have connected the two. As far as he could tell, it was just another gang that Shadis had overlooked. Erwin was always the type to unearth every problem, leave no stone unturned, and then make sure all the ends were neatly tied together. And if the boss's orders were to do a half-assed job, then he knew Erwin would disregard them. But Levi Ackerman? Arresting him had barely registered on his radar. It was just a scuffle, and over two years ago now. He’d seen worse crimes and arrested worse people.

"Are you sure?" he asked. There had to be more to it than this. An assault and a GBH didn't make someone a murderer. He hoped Erwin wasn't clutching at straws. "Ackerman's more thug than assassin."

"Levi _seems_ just a thug, I admit," Erwin replied, encouraged by Mike's questioning over condemnation. "But I believe his Uncle, certainly, is something more. I... still have a lot of work to do but Dad's story, the one he was working on before he died, I've concluded he was drawing in on Kenny's operations." He hesitated, staring intently at his plate before he looked up again. "Do you want to know any more Mike? I can stop here."

"No worries, rookie. I'm no stickler for rules." Mike didn't have to think twice. Nile would cave to authority because he respected it above all else, but Mike knew where his loyalties lay. Erwin's hunches were worth trusting, and there was more to it than that. His friend was apparently wandering into the territory where his father had died. If something happened to him, someone had to follow up. Better yet, he could try and provide Erwin with enough backup to stay safe during his investigation.

"Sounds like you're getting onto dangerous turf..." The warning tone in his voice was obvious.

"Kenny - the uncle - is a probable drug dealer and murderer," Erwin replied quietly, glancing round to ensure there was definitely no one seated close enough to hear a word of their conversation. "Right now I'm just gathering information, as much as I can. I want to be ready next time he slips up." He could see the worry in Mike's face so he continued. "I'm not going to do anything too risky. You won't find me chasing Ackerman down a dark alleyway. I'm just trying to finish what my Dad started and... maybe get some justice for him. He was so close to the truth when he died." Erwin looked away for a moment, fighting the unanticipated wave of frustration.

“You think this Kenny is the one who...?" Mike trailed off. Adding 'murdered your father?' seemed too painful to say aloud.

"I do think that," Erwin confirmed with a nod. "What I know is that my Dad was following the trail for a while - writing articles, conducting private investigations, phone calls with questions to people connected with some of his associates. But he never quite got as far as getting proof that Ackerman was behind the drug supply. I haven’t found it yet either. Not _proof_. And if I never can prove it, I can live with that, as long as I'm ready if he slips up."

Mike pictured Erwin pacing frantically in a basement, with corkboards covered in string and photographs and cryptic notes. It was an image ripped straight from the types of detective movies that had made Mike want to be a cop, where some serial killer was pinned by a genius cop with a shady past, a scarred brow and a voice like gravel and tobacco.

Then he looked at his friend, not a grizzled veteran but a bright-eyed rookie of just 6 months' experience. He was so smart that it was practically obscene, but he was going to be restrained by the law and he wasn’t exactly the violent kind.

Mike sniffed at the tzatziki on the table, keeping his tone light despite the subject matter. "Keep me in on this. Won't try to stop you and won't ask too many questions. Don't want you going mad by yourself, that's all..."

Having someone to talk to about this was a weight off Erwin's mind. He felt appreciation for Mike, and vowed to make sure he paid for both of their lunches today when the bill was brought over.

"It may seem a stretch to be looking into the files relating to his nephew giving someone a beating but I want all the information I can find. If you want to help, I would value that. Just keep your ears open for anything about the Ackermans?"

“I’ll be on the lookout.” Mike gave a little mock salute, but then his voice lowered. “Warn me before you do anything dangerous.”

“I don’t think we’re anywhere near danger yet.” Erwin’s expression was guarded.

_Yet._ Mike could tell from that vague, secretive response that this investigation was heading in that direction, however long it took to get there. "Well... just don't tell Nile. He's got mixed loyalties."

Erwin cocked his head to the side, silently asking for more information. Mike leaned in again, as if Nile's career was another restricted subject. "He's got a ten-year plan to become chief super. And Shadis isn't retiring anytime soon but a couple of the neighbouring chiefs are getting close to that age, so he might skip to another district..."

Luckily, Erwin wasn't the type to share his thoughts unnecessarily, because Mike had a sneaking suspicion that Nile, despite being a close and loyal friend, was too devoted to climbing the ladder. He would never intentionally hurt Erwin, but nor would he feel too much regret over stealing the case to another station, or claiming credit, or burying bad press… if it interfered with his career, Mike couldn’t guarantee that Nile would let Erwin get away with bending the rules.

Even as he spoke, Erwin was aware that something was amiss about what Mike had said and his expression morphed into a frown. It was a hard pill to swallow, to think that so close a friend might well be amongst the people he couldn't trust with his ambitions and plans, but Erwin had never known Mike to speak without thinking or to talk frivolously.

The pair shared a look, Erwin demanding more information but Mike having nothing to give.

"He just wants it bad. That's all I'm saying."

"I hadn't realised he was that serious," Erwin replied, with obvious surprise in his tone. "Has he told you why? He's never mentioned anything to me about wanting to make big changes to the force."

“Nothing to do with changes.” Mike shrugged. He didn’t think this was half as complicated as Erwin made it. “He’s got big personal plans. Marry, have a big family, own a house, two cars, white picket fence, summer home in Spain, you know the type. Career’s just a stepping stone. A chief’s salary would go a long way to making it happen. He’ll keep the status quo if he gets there, too.”

Mike painted a vivid picture of a happy, domestic life and Erwin felt his heart sink. He could well imagine Nile in this life, but what a wasted opportunity it would be. For a brief moment he imagined petitioning Nile, trying to persuade him to do more with his plan to become a police chief, but he had to dismiss the idea. If he wanted to influence Nile he'd have to find subtle ways.

“Not like you,” Mike continued with a knowing grin. “You’d rewrite everything and turn my job upside down.”

"I hate it when you're right," Erwin said with a wry look. "I would promise not to disrupt you too much, but we both know it's right of you to start preparing yourself now. We should both be prepared for Nile's bragging when he finally becomes chief. Do you think he'll ever hold a conversation again where he doesn't bring it up?"

“Nope.” Mike’s eyes rolled skyward. “But he’s been on the force maybe six, seven years. That’s not enough time to become a chief. We’ve got a few more years of peace.”

Those words finally sunk in and he jabbed a finger judgmentally at Erwin. “Hey, wait… preparing myself how exactly? Don’t tell me you want chief status too…” That would be just Mike’s luck. Erwin hadn’t even been on the force for a year but it was just like him to be gunning for the top already. And then Mike would be caught between two friends fighting over a promotion. He muttered to himself as Erwin pulled a sheepish face. “Ain’t nobody satisfied with an ordinary job these days?”

With a soft laugh Erwin held up his hands.

"You got me. I wouldn't say I quite have a ten year plan but if the chance arose... The best way to fix all these institutional problems would be an open-minded police chief."

Erwin could see Mike's mood rapidly shifting at the prospect, so he quickly continued.

"I'm not married to the idea. In some ways, I’d rather not take on all that. I just..” He sighed heavily, knowing he was too much of a rookie to be questioning his bosses, but unable to stop himself anyway. “I just want an effective police chief, one that will really dig into these issues and make a difference. I’d take it if it was right, but it doesn’t have to be me.” A mischievous smile flashed on his face and Mike knew what was coming before he started.

“Have you ever considered--”

“Nope.” Mike held up a large hand, shaking his head. “I know my strengths and I know where they stop.”

Erwin conceded the point, even if he thought Mike was underestimating himself. “Listen to me,” he chuckled, shaking his head wryly. “Six months into the job and already looking upwards. Nile would hate me. And you must think I’m being ridiculous.”

“Nope again.” Mike took a gulp of his ginger beer. It was definitely ambitious talk, but if Erwin was anything then he was dedicated. “Always did have a bad feeling you’d be my boss one day.”


	20. Missing Person (11th August 2009)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi uncovers another crime, and plans to make Kenny pay.

The newspaper was gripped in Levi’s fist, scrunched around the middle. It crinkled up the photograph of Barney Marrison, a man almost as despicable as Levi's own uncle.

Almost.

He let himself into the house using his own keys, and found it suspiciously quiet. Normally when Kenny possessed 31 Winterford, the house was full of human strays, dealers and junkies sleeping on the sofas, spilling drinks and leaving rubbish everywhere. But today there was no pile of bags and shoes near the door.

Taking no care to move quietly, he climbed the stairs and saw only one occupied room. Kenny was splayed out across the bed, head tilted back on the pillow and arm draped over some redheaded woman. Both were out for the count. High, drunk, asleep - who cared?

Reeling back, he slapped Kenny across the face with the paper as hard as he could. "Wake up, motherfucker. _Up!_"

The woman at his side jumped, backing up against the wall as Kenny leaped up straight out of dead sleep. He was scrambling to get his hands on the knife in his belt but before he got there, he realised the blurry figure in front of him was his nephew. He sighed, all the breath leaving his body at once. Instead of unsheathing the knife in his belt, he angrily pulled his trousers on over his shorts, buckling them and sinking back down to sit on the edge of the bed. Rattled and embarrassed, he fixed Levi with a vicious glare.

“What the hell you slappin’ at me for, boy?” he demanded.

"He's dead." Levi held up the newspaper to Kenny's bleary eyes with one clenched fist. When he didn't get an answer quick enough, he knocked on the other man's forehead with his knuckles, the newspaper flicking him in the face.

"Wake the fuck up. Marrison. You said he got locked up, now he's missing. How did he go missing in prison?"

“Eh?” Kenny said, yawning through his fingers with one hand and shoving Levi back with the other. He saw the scrunched face of Barney Marrison, the caption underneath his ugly mugshot reading _Missing: have you seen this man?_ and a number to call.

He couldn’t help a sly grin. Marrison had been a thorn in his side for years, slowly encroaching into his territory, showing disdain and disregard for Kenny’s authority at every turn. For a while he had tolerated it because Marrison stayed just the right side of the line, only dabbling in deals, but the last few months he’d grown bolder - or stupider - and a failed negotiation over the turf left Kenny with no choice.

“What do I know? Maybe he escaped, brat. No reason to come in here wakin’ me up, scaring, uh-” He thumbed at the woman behind him. “-her.”

Levi's eyes tracked briefly back to the woman in the bed, who was cowering behind Kenny, simply watching the exchange in wide-eyed terror. Kenny took the chance to snatch the paper from Levi’s hand and growl at him for such a rude awakening, catching his nephew’s attention again.

"Don't _fuck_ with me,” Levi snapped. “You killed him. Didn't you." Robbed of the paper, Levi clenched both fists. It was all he could do not to break Kenny's nose right now. "You stupid old fool. You're lucky not to be in a cell and you're still doing shit like this?"

"Don't be so dramatic," Kenny said, half-interrupting as he stood up and shoved the paper out, thumping it at Levi’s chest with some force. His nephew flung it onto the bed, making the woman flinch with a tiny yelp. 

"Even if I did this, the pigs are stupid eh,” Kenny continued with his usual swaggering confidence. “They don't know what they're doin', they didn't catch me for anythin' else…” His eyes narrowed dangerously, glinting like chips of steel. “Or _you,_ brat.”

Levi hadn’t always escaped the cops, had even served time before, but the look on his uncle’s face made it clear that he wasn’t talking about simple violence. The ghosts of those victims seemed to haunt Levi more than their actual murderer.

“See. You worry too much.” Kenny grinned when he saw the understanding in Levi’s eyes, but it quickly fell back into anger. “So shut your mouth, coming here accusin' me of shit, trying to keep me out of prison…"

"I don't give a solitary fuck about you, Kenny," Levi retorted. He leaned up, jabbing his finger furiously in Kenny's face. "I'm not going back to jail because of your mental defects, motherfucker."

Kenny glowered down at the finger being pointed in his face. He wasn’t about to listen to a lecture from a kid half his age even in a good mood, and this was far from a good mood.

"Watch your mouth, brat," he said, swatting the hand away and leaning down until their faces were inches apart. "You come in here giving me the big man talk, you gotta remember your place. Don't make me show you like I showed this fucking joker." He pointed at the newspaper.

Levi's eyes flashed with hatred. He knew it was Kenny's fault. Without thinking, he pulled back and delivered a solid right hook to Kenny's temple. The girl in the bed screamed, clutching the sheets about her and backing up against the wall. When the fist connected with the side of his head, Kenny seemed to crumple and fall. He staggered back, the force shocking him.

"What the fuck, you little sh--!" he screamed, but he was interrupted as Levi came in for another hit. He tried to dodge but his nephew was young, strong and fast. The fist smashed into his cheek.

He felt his ears were ringing as he hit the floor sideways, head hitting the bedside cabinet, blood in his mouth from where he had bitten down on his lip. Levi stood over his uncle's body, fists pounding down. Kenny was covering his face, and Levi's knuckles connected hard with his wrists, his hands, occasionally striking home at his jaw.

Levi’s mind was spinning with the anger, eyes shot wide. Kenny’s kill count was racking up, all for the sake of his meagre ambitions. Levi always had the feeling that there were more deaths than he knew, but hadn’t dared to voice it aloud to anyone. Now it was all bubbling over into a furious attack. It was all that Kenny could do to stop himself from being hit in the face again, having to keep his hands up as a shield even while he hollered and yelled a string of obscenities.

Levi poured his rage into it, breathing hard by the time he stopped, suddenly recalling the witness in the room. She was hiding under the blankets, peering out over the top with pure fright written on her features as if she expected the same treatment. Levi stepped away, hands shaking as he looked at them to see purple bruises flowering across his knuckles, smudges of either his blood or Kenny's sinking into the lines of his skin. 

Even though he looked like a wreck, Kenny found the resilience to vault to his feet, pumped with adrenaline. He grabbed Levi by the collar, aiming a fist of his own at his face.

"You dare hit me?!”

His voice was thick and he looked like a demon with his blood-covered teeth bared and his eyes full of murderous rage. Levi flinched for a second, then his head snapped back as Kenny struck him hard. He saw stars, vision spiralling, and the pain started immediately.

Using their height difference, he angled an elbow up into Kenny's ribs and shoved his full weight into it. As soon as his uncle was off balance, Levi stepped back, putting distance between them. From the corner of his vision he could see the mystery woman scrabbling under the bed, and feared that she was looking for a phone to call the police.

He dabbed at his bleeding lip with his sleeve, ignoring the painful throbbing. "You'll get yours one day," he spat, before turning to leave. From the corridor, he overheard Kenny talking to the woman but was barely at the stairs before his uncle was on his heels again.

A strong arm grabbed him around the chest and pulled him towards the ground. The breath was choked out of him and it took all his strength to stay on his feet, hands gripping the forearm that was pinning him. He sank his fingertips into Kenny's wrist and tucked his shoulder, aiming to set him off balance, but the height and weight difference was too much for Levi to throw him.

"Threaten me will ya?!" Kenny snarled as they wrestled. "I'll teach you your place just like I used to when you were a real brat.."

Feeling a sense of panic over being restrained, Levi responded on instinct. He sank down, bending his knees, then launched hard.

The back of Levi’s head collided with Kenny’s cheekbone, and he quickly realised he had made a mistake in pursuing this fight. He wasn't by any means weak but he couldn't stand up to the years that Levi had on him. He grunted, scrabbling to gain his footing, and tried desperately to disengage. He could hear his own panting breath, arm outstretched towards Levi as if to keep him at bay. 

"Remember your place," he said, sounding laboured. "What right ya got attacking your old uncle eh?"

Levi kept his hands up, ready in case Kenny was about to lunge for him again.

“My old uncle is a _murderer_,” he whispered, disgusted. He’d known it for years, but it had gotten so much worse. Now Kenny had a callous disregard for life, and was willing to throw anyone into the grave. It chilled Levi to the bone.

"Your old Uncle does what he had to do to survive," Kenny replied, staring in disbelief at Levi. "What the hell do you care about a few dealers and hookers eh?” 

In Levi’s mind, that statement was beneath contempt. Kenny didn't have to kill hookers and junkies to survive. He wasn't some underdog up against the world. He had the money, the influence, the supply. They were the ones who were outmatched. He was a tyrant playing a victim.

Sensing that his nephew was unconvinced, Kenny continued with a sneer. “Where'd this conscience come from? Didn't think you were so soft..."

"You're a gutless worm. Don't do it again."

"Gutless?" Kenny laughed loudly, pulling himself up to his full height, towering over Levi. "And what brave things have you done eh brat? Nothin'. You don't get to judge me when all you do is run from the business.”

Levi’s silence only angered him more, made him push harder for a reaction.

“If someone came after you, you'd roll over, you wouldn't be able to do what's necessary. Tch! Sometimes I reckon I should've left you when Kuchel died."

Levi’s eyes narrowed suddenly, and he raised his fist as if he was about to strike Kenny again. Truthfully it was very tempting, but he froze in place. “Send someone after me, then,” he said. “If anyone takes that job.”

Kenny coolly stared at the fist, inches away from his battered face. He used his sleeve to wipe the blood that was dripping down his chin, and spat on the floor to clear his throat of the rest. It made Levi draw back, covering his mouth and looking away, revolted by it.

"I'm impressed you'd threaten me," Kenny said, grinning wide and wickedly. "You’d clean up in this business if you didn’t keep having these little…” He twisted a finger against his temple. “Episodes.”

Levi scowled. There was no point trying to explain why he disliked death and murder, not to a man like this, who thought an attack of conscience was a psychotic episode.

“Nobody else needs to die, Kenny.” His voice was tired as he spoke. This life was exhausting.

"Needs to die?" Kenny exclaimed, calling down the stairs as Levi walked away. "You sayin' I didn't have good reasons? Marrison was a dealer, he was in our territory, trying to muscle in on our money! He needed to know what the consequences of that were."

There were a million options other than murder, but Levi concluded that it was useless arguing with this psychopath, and instead resolutely descended the stairs. As his nephew moved further and further away from him, Kenny pointed angrily at his back, jabbing the air.

"I didn't teach you right. That's the problem, Levi! I blame _myself_ for how you turned out!"

Levi looked over his shoulder with a dark expression, eyeing his uncle’s bloody lips and swollen eyes.

“You better have been thorough. Don’t get caught for this.”

"Knew you cared about me," Kenny muttered to the slammed door.


	21. Lost Causes (October 2011-January 2012)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin gets Shadis to agree to investigations into Kenny's warehouses, without success.

**5th October 2011**  
Erwin had come straight from the hospital back to the precinct, his notes clutched in his hands. He didn’t greet anyone, and he passed his desk without stopping, heading straight to the Chief's office. The door was ajar and he could see Shadis sitting there, head bent over a file, so he knocked.

"Chief," he said, launching straight into the words he had been rehearsing the entire way back. "I've just been at the hospital, interviewing a man - Boris Feulner - who overdosed at work. It’s another employee from the warehouse on Holly Road, and-”

“Smith.” The chief sighed, putting his pen down with exaggerated force. “Is there some reason I need to hear about this?”

The interruption made Erwin falter, but only for a moment.

“Yes, because he was found with the exact same drugs that all the others were - cocaine, marijuana and ecstasy - in the same bags, the cocaine has the same chemical makeup. Clearly from the same supplier. It’s beyond suspicious-”

“If you want to arrest Feulner for possession, then go ahead.”

Erwin was trying hard not to get frustrated. He had thought Shadis would at least give him the opportunity to explain himself first.

“I do want to arrest Feulner, but just imagine how many _others_ we could arrest if we search this warehouse,” Erwin urged. “He’s the third guy in six months, all working at the same place, all with this exact combination of drugs in their possession. Let me get a warrant for the place, we can go in and do a thorough look. Sir, I’m convinced if we do then we’ll find drugs on the premises itself. It’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Smith, if you brought a stack of heroin to work and knocked yourself out at your desk, would that be your fault, or mine?”

Shadis didn’t wait for an answer to his rhetorical question. “Exactly. This warehouse might have a drug culture; hell, everywhere in this city has one right now. You’d find the same thing anywhere. You’re just hung up on this place.”

This conversation was testing even Erwin’s ability to remain calm and collected. He couldn’t quite believe that Shadis was being this blasé about it.

“With all due respect Chief, but if there _is_ a drug culture problem in this entire city then isn’t it part of your job to fix that?” he asked, knowing full well just how insolent that must sound. It also happened, in his opinion, to be true, but the chief’s eye was twitching dangerously so he made a quick attempt to sound more constructive. “Let me set up a drugs task force. I’m confident I can do a good job with it, and you must agree something has to be done.”

“_You_ become chief, then you can set up your taskforce. We’ll see how much you care about every junkie with a sob story when you’re accounting, recruiting, organising, marshalling - and all _that_, with the media breathing down your neck!”

Shadis unclenched his fingers from the edge of his notebook, taking a deep breath. Erwin opted to ignore the rant; he had no doubt Shadis was under a great deal of pressure but he was not prepared to listen to excuses. His boss was far too quick to blame the addicts themselves and was more invested in getting them off the street than sorting out the supply chain. 

“What exactly do you think we are going to find in a warehouse that happens to employ a few addicts?”

“The main supply of these drugs,” Erwin replied. “I believe they are getting their drugs from the warehouse itself - why else would they all just happen to all OD in the same place? What kind of employer would allow their workers to bring drugs in and use while on the job, if not supplying them?” Erwin’s hope was that Shadis could see that Kenny Ackerman, the man who owned the business operating out of Holly Road’s warehouse, was suspicious.

Shadis scowled darkly at the officer from under a grizzled brow. It clearly didn’t strike him as much of a mystery that people might use drugs at work.

“People spend a lot of time at work. You’d see a lot more junkies overdosing on the job if more of them even _had_ jobs instead of begging for a living. Besides… we checked out this warehouse business when you first brought it up. Their finances are clean.”

“These overdosed victims aren’t going to be the only users in the place. So at the very least, you’ll get a few on possession. And that’s the _least_ we’ll find.”

Shadis weighed it up in his mind. Trusting Erwin Smith’s hunches was a mixed bag. He was smart, but perhaps a little too smart. Sometimes he pinned a situation down perfectly, and other times he overreacted, chasing shadows. Apparently he couldn’t get this idea out of his head. The chief suspected that a few counts of possession were _all_ that would come of this, but that didn’t hurt. Besides, it might humble his overzealous officer to be proven wrong.

“... I’ll think about it. Apply for a warrant the usual way, but for God’s sake, bring it to me _before_ you act on it.”

“Yes, sir,” Erwin replied with a soft sigh. The condition that Shadis placed upon the warrant was enough to stop him from embracing the elation at being granted the yes. “And… just so I’m clear, you’re saying no to the drugs task force?”

“Smiiiith...” Shadis’ tone was dangerous. This officer seemed destined to spend his entire life on thin ice. “Not unless you become chief and get more funding out of the commissioners. Or are you going to pay for a taskforce out of your own wages?” He glared up. “That’s what I thought. Out, before I change my mind about this warehouse business.”

**3rd January 2012**  
“Chief!” Erwin called as Shadis stormed past his desk. “May I see you?” He jumped to his feet in anticipation of being granted a yes.

“Do I have a choice?” Shadis grumbled. The sound of Smith’s footsteps gave away that he was being followed to his office, and answered his question.

Erwin had been waiting anxiously for the Chief to come in, ever since he had finished interviewing the woman in custody. The moment she had said the words ‘Kenny Ackerman’, his mind had been racing. As usual, when it came to facing Shadis, he made certain to keep this enthusiasm in check. 

“Close the door behind you,” the chief said, accepting his fate and sounding none too pleased about it. “Can’t a man even get a morning coffee before being pestered?”

Though he wanted to say no to both of those questions, Erwin kept his mouth shut.

“I’ve just finished interviewing a woman arrested for possession,” he explained. “Ruth Kline. When asked how she got the drugs she claimed her boss sold them to her. I asked who her boss is and where she worked - she named Kenny Ackerman, and a warehouse on Holloway Drive.”

Shadis tried to pick through the myriad of details being thrown at him by his bright-eyed, overly enthusiastic officer. “Kenny… Ackerman.” It took a second for Shadis to place the name, mainly because unlike his subordinate, he wasn’t obsessed with this person. “You already swept his warehouse, and twenty-something counts of possession isn’t the home-run you promised me.”

“It’s a different warehouse,” Erwin countered. “I… appreciate the investigation into Holly Road was a disappointment to you but this is a new lead, a new location. It’s quite possible we will find something here and we can’t ignore Kline’s direct accusation against Ackerman.”

Shadis scowled. Clearly Smith did not understand the potential implications of disrupting a business over and over. “Sounds like Ackerman is a junkie too then. Get a warrant and raid his house.”

“But sir,” Erwin protested immediately. “She _specifically_ named the place of business.” It might sound tempting to have the opportunity to raid Kenny Ackerman’s home but Erwin knew it wouldn’t work. If they didn’t find much there, then Ackerman would get a slap on the wrist, and Shadis would think job well done. There would be no further investigating allowed to happen. He couldn’t let that happen, not when he knew how much further Kenny’s crimes went.

“I really believe we need to concentrate on the Holloway Drive site.”

“We’ve been over this--”

“Sir, I understand, but there are reasons to believe this is the head of the snake.” Erwin spoke quickly and urgently, sensing by his tone that Shadis was about to bring the conversation to an abrupt close. “It might be in this warehouse, and that’s why Holly Road was clean. Imagine if they’re running a massive operation, and we don’t even--”

“_Fine_,” Shadis growled, and the room fell silent. 

“...Fine,” he said again, fixing Erwin with an inexorable stare. “You get her statement in writing as your motive for the search. God forbid Ackerman starts to think _someone_ has a personal vendetta against him.”

**10th January 2012**  
It was after a very frustrating day that Erwin decided to see if he could find Armin Arlert. His second investigation into another of Ackerman’s warehouses had come to naught, and at every turn he found himself hitting walls. Now Shadis was pulling him off the cases altogether. For a whole week he had felt despondent and nearly given up, but now he was resolved to do something else, something outside of the police force.

Luckily this idea had been forming in his mind for some time, a way to contact potential leads on his cases without giving himself away, and he'd set up the fake email address and social media accounts a week ago. He thought it was fitting and that his Dad would approve, that he was using his name and the handle of the paper that had published his investigations.

It didn't take long to find a few Armins online. He ruled out a few based on their location, and then found one listed in the city. He couldn't be sure as the account was devoid of photographs and much personal information at all; a scroll through the recent tweets showed only the expected pictures of coffees and food, declarations of movies he'd seen, a picture of a cat here and there. So Erwin took a chance and fired off a message.

**AdrianMercury:** Hi Armin, I realise this message is out of the blue to you and I am hoping I have the right person. Please, can you tell me if your parents names are Franz and Maggie Arlert? Many thanks, Adrian.

Not one hour passed before an email notification informed him that he had a direct message. It had to be Armin; this was just a sock account, after all.

**AStar0311:** Hi Adrian. Yes, those are my parents' names. Sorry to say (if you don't already know) but they died five years ago.  
**AStar0311:** Can I help you with something?

**AdrianMercury:** Hi Armin, Thanks for replying. I didn’t know your parents but I knew they had sadly passed away. I should introduce myself properly. I’m Adrian, and I’m a journalist doing a piece about crime in the city. I have some suspicions about the way your parents died and I wondered if you had any reason to feel the same way? Was there anything about it, or the way it was handled, that concerned you?

**AStar0311:** The way it was handled? If you mean the police, no, they were great. They were very sympathetic. But there are definitely open questions, if that's what you mean.  
**AStar0311:** You are really a journalist, right?

**AdrianMercury:** Hi Armin, Yes, that is what I mean. I’m concerned that leads were not followed up properly. I know there was no conviction, not even an arrest, and I also happen to have a photograph of the scene with something suspect on it. I don’t want to discuss too much detail in this way. Would you consider meeting with me to talk? I am a journalist but there is more to it than that. I believe the death of your parents is connected to something personal for me.

It took barely a second for the young man to reply.

**AStar0311:** How did you get a photograph?

A minute later, he sent a more well-considered response.

**AStar0311:** It wasn't treated as suspicious because they have no enemies. But I told them their weird deer theory didn't make any sense. They thought I was just being emotional and I didn't want to be pushy. But the more I think about it the less sense it makes.  
**AStar0311:** OK, we can meet as long as it's a public place.


	22. Cafe Conspiracies (14th January 2012)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin meets Armin at a coffee shop to discuss his parents' deaths.

When Erwin pulled up outside the coffee shop on Lascar Avenue and checked the time, he realised he was ten minutes early for their meeting so he turned off the engine and sat for a few moments, going over everything in his head. There was a lot to this case and a lot was riding on this meeting with Armin. He was confident he could pull it off.

At 10.55am he got out of the car and headed into the shop, grabbing a coffee and taking a seat. The meeting was at 11am and Armin had a photograph of him, so he just had to wait. He found himself watching the door with subtle glances, every person a potential Armin.

Finally, just after 11am, a blond young man walked in and this was not the person Erwin had pictured. He was vaguely aware that the Arlerts’ son would be in his early 20s, but he looked barely out of school, fresh-faced and bright-eyed despite his serious expression. He found it hard to keep that surprise off his face when the boy spotted him and walked over.

On the other side, Armin's heart was pounding and he felt almost breathless as he entered the cafe, looking nondescript as ever. His scarf was wrapped high around the top of his coat to keep out the cold and in hindsight, skinny jeans were probably a bad idea for January.

He was eager to put down the hefty file in his hands so he scanned the cafe for ‘Adrian’, then approached quickly, setting the folder down on the table and holding out his hand. The man had blond hair like his own, except shorter and neater. He was super tall, and significantly older than Armin. "Mr Smith?"

“Mr Arlert!” Erwin greeted, standing up and holding out his hand. It was a little formal but he wanted Armin to be assured by him from the start, to feel that he was someone he could trust. Especially as he had lied to him about his identity. “It’s good to meet you. Thank you for agreeing to this.”

"Mm, you too! It’s no trouble." 

Erwin retook his seat while Armin bought himself a drink, and sipped at his coffee trying to cool his nerves and choose where to begin.

When Armin took the seat opposite - not with a coffee, but with a tall strawberry milkshake - Erwin wondered if he was really involving a child in this mess.

“I realise this must be strange, to get a message from a stranger, out of nowhere.” He interlocked his fingers, leaning on the table. “I wanted to know what happened to your parents, so I can get all the information possible before I form any conclusions. Will it be difficult for you to discuss this?”

Armin gave him a soft smile. “Thanks, but I’m okay really. It’s been a long time, and if there’s a chance of investigating it…”

It was certainly strange to get a message out of the blue from a stranger, but Armin had no other recourse. Anything was worth the risk right now, and he didn't take this man for a threat. He didn’t admit it aloud, but his mysterious contact had hinted at a personal stake in this case and that was what had persuaded him to attend today.

“Well, firstly…” Erwin began. “You mentioned something about a deer story in your messages. What did you mean by that? There’s no indication that a deer had anything to do with the crash.” He opened up the file in front of him and handed Armin a photograph of the crime scene; a banged up car with two blown tires.

Armin tilted his head to look at Erwin’s offering. The photo was familiar and yet not. He had been in that modest family car so many times, but it was a complete wreck in the picture.

"The deer never made any sense. It was a guess. They were just trying to think of a reason why Dad would have turned the car so suddenly. But look--" With his fingertips, he turned the photo back towards Erwin, pointing at the empty fields in the distance. It was no habitat for any kind of animal to have jumped out from. "And a deer could have come from this side, but it would have had to get through one lane of oncoming traffic to reach my parents... and I know the roads were busy because there were loads of witnesses and injured people." It had confused him then and it still confused him now - no witnesses mentioned a deer, and it would only have two options. Either it climbed over a fence out of an empty field and ran directly into a car, or it sprinted through one lane of oncoming traffic without being noticed by a single driver, only to get hit anyway. But when he explained this to the police, it seemed as if they thought he was clutching at straws.

"They said there was no sign of outside projectiles, but look -" He hastily offered up his own files and letters, including some neatly highlighted sentences - "There was shrapnel. It was dismissed because it might be a fault in the car, or just damage from the tyre, but there's no way that could be true."

Armin's eyes were wide, his voice fast. He had planned to be much more restrained than this, but he had also waited years to offload this and be heard by somebody who didn’t think he was just a melodramatic teenager, and now it all flooded out.

"My dad was a mechanic for like..." His gaze rose to the ceiling as he did some mental arithmetic to check his estimate. "12 years maybe? He did this and then he bought his garage and then he sold it and bought a few more places, but he still did his own repairs and favours for friends. There's no way he would have missed a fault, or shrapnel, or have--" He pointed at the 'Conclusions' section of the report, to the quote: "'overinflated the tyres'. And he wouldn't lurch a car hard enough to blow two tyres. It doesn't make any sense."

Erwin listened carefully to Armin, let the boy get through everything he wanted to say without interrupting him. His insight was impressive - beyond impressive. He could believe he was listening to himself, in different shoes, talking. It was everything Erwin himself had concluded, and then some more; he hadn’t known that Franz Arlert was a mechanic for years, but now he knew that he agreed with Armin. The man would have known if his car was in bad shape.

Armin paused for breath, aware of how he had been rambling, gauging any response from his new companion. His uncertainty crept back. "I mean, I guess I might be mistaken. But there is enough room here for doubt. I think."

“No, I agree,” Erwin said. “I’m impressed that you drew all these conclusions by yourself.”

Armin sheepishly waved both hands, protesting through a smile. "I've had a lot of time to think on it."

“I wish to show you another picture,” Erwin continued, though he hesitated for a moment. Softly, he added; “It’s the body of your father. If you would rather not...”

He didn't think to question how a journalist got a photo of his father, caught up in the enormity of the request. “Go on,” he said, resolutely.

Erwin placed the photograph down. It was a close-up on the torso of Franz Arlert as he sat in the car after the crash. Mercifully the photo did not show his face or any graphic injuries, but it still made the breath hitch in Armin’s lungs for a second, but he had seen worse when he identified their bodies. That had been so much worse; seventeen, barely out of school, and with the added shock of the double loss. His grandfather had clutched his hand, not wanting Armin to handle his parents’ deaths alone; Armin had squeezed back, not wanting his grandpa to see his son’s body alone.

The medical staff had already cleaned up both bodies, so they looked still and white, with covers up to their necks as they lay on clinical steel bases. Armin hadn't seen the injuries that Erwin was indicating until now.

“This injury on his neck is very unusual for a crash,” Erwin explained gently. “Did anyone ever attempt to explain it?”

"The report said there was tendon damage to the neck, and nobody could really answer it, but nothing consistent was coming up. In the end they said it might be whiplash. Nobody suggested that he might have been injured by someone else, and I sounded paranoid when I said it..." Armin's voice lowered to a whisper, as if they were discussing a conspiracy theory. "The officer said that murders by strangulation were always accompanied by fighting marks, like skin under the fingernails or scratches on their own neck, you know, to fight off the aggressor… but Dad had nothing like that. I said he might have been unconscious already, and the officer... he said, ‘who strangles an unconscious car crash victim’?"

Armin shook his head. The officer had been genuine rather than obstructive, but he obviously thought it was the boy’s grief talking. "I couldn't answer that. Except to remind him that Mum didn't have whiplash at all. They pressed me for ages about any enemies my parents had, but there wasn't anyone. I checked, and--" He flicked a few pages back in the report, then tapped at the page. "There were no fingerprint-shaped bruises. That was convincing to me at the time, but now I think it was ligature strangulation.”

Erwin raised an eyebrow to hear such a young man say words like ‘ligature strangulation’, and deduced that Armin had done his own research in the years since the case ended. Clearly neither one of them were willing to let their parents’ ghosts go unavenged.

“Your photo..." Armin picked it up again, shuffling it to the top of the pile. The bruises were obvious, a faint purple band across his father's neck. "Now I think it even more."

There was a touch of elation in Erwin as Armin concluded as he had, through the same process of logic, and he nodded at each point he raised.

“The autopsy didn’t happen,” he told him, gesturing at the file. “So no one looked into the bruising, or anything else. Simply declared, as you know, an accident. Which when you look at the details is clearly incorrect. You were never wrong, Mr Arlert.” 

Armin fought hard not to let his eyes well up. It was a big relief and unexpectedly touching to hear someone say that he wasn't wrong.

Erwin politely sipped his coffee and pretended not to notice as he considered what to say next. For all his youthful features and strawberry milkshakes and teenage outfits, he was clearly a clever young man and his investigation had impressed Erwin no end. He suspected that the two of them would make more progress working together.

“The reason I’ve come to you...” he said, giving Armin a serious look. “I know what it’s like to lose someone in mysterious circumstances, and I have reason to believe the two cases are connected. That is, that they were deaths at the same hands. Your parents were the owners of his warehouse, did you know that?” He handed over a location map and a photograph of the outside of a large property. “It’s close to the site of the crash.” He pointed to it on the same map.

"Oh yeah, yeah -- " Armin leaned over excitedly, looking at the map. He hadn't been there, but he knew his parents rented out a few places. "Dad was a bit of a handyman. After he had his own garage, they worked their way up, buying warehouses and factories and stuff, fixing them up and renting them out."

“I see. Well, the named tenant at the time was the same man I suspect for the death of my Dad.”

The young man looked up at Erwin with big inquisitive eyes through strands of blond hair. The intrigue was overwhelming and this really was starting to sound like a conspiracy. "Who?" he asked, but that was the simple and obvious question. "More to the point, why? My parents really _didn't_ have enemies. It killed the whole case."

“A man by the name of Ackerman,” Erwin replied, steepling his fingers and keeping his voice low as Armin was. “The problem was not your parents, but him - I believe he was likely running drugs through the property he was renting from them, and… I can’t be certain, but I speculate that they found out.”

"Drugs," Armin echoed, almost scandalised. His parents had never had anything to do with drugs but they didn't need to, didn't even need enemies if they were just unfortunate witnesses. Someone had picked them out on a crowded highway, taken out their car and injured a lot of other people. It was too much to be an accident, but the idea of a criminal network was intimidating.

“Part of the reason I’m contacting you is that, as you have access to everything, you might be willing to see if you can find anything in their records to link them to him. Any letters, emails, payment records, lease documents. Any place they mention him. Would you be willing to help me try to get justice done, Mr Arlert?”

"They left me the house, so I've kept everything," he said. "They owned a few places when they died, so one of them has to be him." That left aside the idea of shell companies and fake business names, but he would sift through it later. This was the only lead he had found on his parents in years, so he was definitely taking it at any cost.

With Armin willing to help, a wave of relief through Erwin’s chest. He got few solid leads on the trail to arresting Kenny Ackerman, certainly very few living, willing people with access to more information who looked at him with eager eyes.

Armin couldn't stop himself from asking any longer. "What happened to your dad, Adrian?"

Erwin felt a flush of guilt, remembering that he had got the man here under a pretence. For a moment he considered playing cautiously and keeping up the story..

“He was shot,” Erwin replied quietly. “By Ackerman, or one of the people under him. I can’t be sure.”

Hearing of a shooting, an _assassination_, made this criminal network seem even more real and frightening to Armin. Meanwhile Erwin sighed softly, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he had made up his mind.

“Mr Arlert, I have a confession to make. My name isn’t Adrian. It’s Erwin. Adrian was my Dad’s name, and he was the journalist. He was killed while investigating Ackerman, who he believed to be the head of a drug ring with some powerful connections, and when I read his notes I realised how close he was before he was killed. Naturally, when they realised, they moved their whole operation around and all those leads were lost. I suspect that’s when he moved to your parents’ warehouse, in 1999.”

Armin's heart had been sinking when the man offered up a confession, but it was buoyed again when he heard it.

"Oh," he said dismissively. "That's fine." He shrugged as he returned to the records. Apart from having to adjust to calling the man Erwin instead of Adrian, it made no difference to him, but he could tell his lack of reaction had puzzled his companion.

"In substance you're still telling the truth," he explained. "All that matters is whether you're right."

The reaction was surprising, and it made Erwin smile at how practical it was. Armin did not react from emotion but from logic. He liked that attitude and was very pleased that he had found the young man.

Armin had taken a pencil from his binder and was writing '1999, Ackerman' in neat, round characters. "I'll look for the leases that start around that time. Am I looking for Ackerman, or a business name?"

Erwin checked his notes as he answered. “Look for Ackerman. First name is Kenny, or Kenneth, if that helps. There is a legitimate trading business under the name of Paradis Goods. And for the record, I am very sure that I’m right,” he added confidently. “After my Dad was shot, I joined the police force and I’m currently an Inspector. My hypotheses are based on the facts and evidence I have managed to uncover so far, across various cases, of which your parents’ death is just one.” 

Armin’s face showed his shock. “You’re an officer?” He was glad now that he hadn’t said anything too negative about the police force. “Working unofficially, I take it.” That was deducible from the manner in which he had been approached.

“Yes,” Erwin said with a little nod of his head. “Unofficially. Call it a hobby. Call it justice. Many of the cases that I’m looking at are closed or have no one currently investigating them so I’m not stepping on anyone’s toes, and I do all of the work for them in my spare time. I’m determined to catch Kenny Ackerman for something, even if it’s not my dad. I can still get some justice against him.”

He thought for a few moments if there was anything else he needed to ask. “What is your current job, Mr Arlert?”

“Oh, uh, you can call me Armin.” He felt pretty awkward about being treated like an adult, and tried to remind himself that he was an adult. “I only graduated in July, so I’m new, but I’m an admin assistant at a law firm. I have to collect documents, like death certificates, marriage certificates, land registry and the like. I’m getting pretty good at digging. I thought I might make a thing of it.”

He started to whisper. He knew that what he was suggesting was technically breaking a rule, but he also knew he had entrapment as a defence now that he knew Erwin was a police officer. “I could get some information without being suspect.”

Erwin silently added ‘bold’ to the list of attributes that he’d learnt about Armin so far. He was turning out to be very useful indeed. His youth kept striking him, but when he spoke he sounded so much older than he was. Erwin felt like he was looking at his reflection in a slightly warped funhouse mirror; their appearances, lives and ways of thinking so similiar.

“If you can dig up information, that could be excellent. Did you ever consider a career in the police yourself, Armin?”

“Ah…!” Armin was taken aback, practically blushing at the thought. He couldn’t imagine himself doing something like that. “I’m not really - uh, tough. Or pushy. I wouldn’t be much good at dealing with aggressive people. I’m not even good at dealing with aggressive drivers.”

Erwin didn’t push the issue although he did think that Armin would make a great colleague. “Consider private investigation work, if you ever tire of law. It’s a good career if you like investigations and helping people.”

“Huh.” Armin cocked his head to the side, lost in his thoughts for a moment as he genuinely contemplated the idea. Right now he felt rich just by getting paid full-time wages instead of living like a student. His grandfather had moved into the family home to take care of him, but it was his parents who had left him with no mortgage, no debts and decent support. In some ways he was very lucky, and getting justice for them felt like the least he could do.

He flipped open his file again to hand Erwin various stacks of paper. “Here are some of the reports I was given at the time, and the letter they sent me to explain why the file was closing without any investigation. These are some of Dad’s business records - and these are the car’s records, the one in the crash.” He looked at Erwin expectantly. “You can take it if you want. I have the originals.”

Eagerly accepting them, Erwin flicked through but couldn’t wait to study them properly later.

“This here says your Dad had his car serviced only a month prior to the accident,” he said. “Is that when they are claiming that the tyres were over-inflated?” It did say Armin’s dad had done the service himself, it was true, but he was a trained mechanic and his paperwork verified everything. Frankly, it was all just sloppy, careless work and he felt himself growing just a little angry that it had happened. It should never have come to this. It should have been noticed.

“It’s like the deer,” he said. “They never said the tyres were over-inflated. Just a maybe. I asked why my dad crashed - maybe an animal startled him. Why were the tyres burst? Maybe they were over-inflated. Why did he have tendon damage? Maybe it was whiplash. Why was there shrapnel? Maybe it just came from the car.” 

He sighed. “They knew it wasn’t convincing, but without solid information, they couldn’t prove anything. Everything fell apart unless I’d name someone, and I really couldn’t.” He sucked on the striped straw of his milkshake, eyes on the pages as Erwin turned them. Then he jabbed at the document as Erwin reached a particular bank statement. “See. The police did try the money angle. They saw my parents did well financially, and thought it was a solid lead. But even though they had money, none of it went missing. There was no fraud, no loans, nothing. Just legit business payments. Nobody profited from their deaths.”

“So they speculated and then decided that was close enough,” Erwin sighed. “I feel as if I want to apologise to you for what the police have done with this case.”

“That’s not your fault. Anyway…” He looked misleadingly carefree as he looked up at Erwin with a blue-eyed bright expression. “There’s hope for justice yet, right?”

Erwin allowed the smile to be contagious. He certainly wanted that to be true.


	23. Partners in Crime (17th January 2012)

** _Tuesday 17th January 2012, 18:17_ ** __

_Good evening!_

_I found those documents and scanned them at work today. Here are my parents’ financial records before their deaths. I have checked the other businesses. Three are still renting from us and seem legitimate._

_Paradis Goods is on there under Kenny Ackerman’s name. They started renting our warehouse on Bedford Avenue in July 2004 and only missed a single rent payment in all that time. I didn't notice it. It was 1st February 2007, the day after my parents died. It should have been £2,250. It was paid on the 1st March 2007 and the first of every month thereafter._

_I did some digging at work and found the rental records for Paradis Goods. They have rented a lot of places over the years, but are current tenants on four commercial premises. Their turnover is respectable. Some of the secretaries and principals have changed but Kenny Ackerman has always been one of the company holders. What can you tell me about Traute Caven, Dimo Reeves and Duran Malet?_

_\-- Armin _

Erwin eagerly opened the attached documents that Armin had included on his email and combed through them, carefully checking each date that he had against one of his files; anything at all that could be in some way significant. The missing payment had his interest immediately. Ackerman might say it was a coincidence, but it was certainly suspect that he had only skipped one payment, and it came within 24 hours of the recipients’ deaths.

After checking a few details, he clicked reply;

_ **Tuesday 17th January 2012, 18:52** _

_Evening! Thank you for emailing._

_The attached documents will be useful, and I surmise that the missing payment was intentional - I think you will agree? I checked the archives and found no mentions of your parents’ names in the newspaper at the time of the accident; not until the 4th, when the obituary was placed. There is no way he should have known that he could get away without paying._

_Caven and Malet aren’t names I recognise. Caven isn’t known to the police. Our system says Malet has a prior conviction for assault and Reeves has several related to fraud and tax dodging. Before working with Ackerman, he apparently had his own business which went bankrupt._

_Can you find any records on a Uri Reiss or a Levi Ackerman?_

_Best wishes,  
Erwin._

Armin carefully jotted down the names Erwin had given him. He would take a look with his subscribed accounts tomorrow, but for now he consulted information in the public domain.

Almost nothing came up for a Levi Ackerman, and Uri Reiss had connections to a completely different business, one that had ceased trading long ago. Armin was almost excited by all this investigative work and the intrigue. It nearly made him feel guilty at first. This was the reason that his parents had died, after all. But then he reassured himself that this was about bringing their killer to justice.

** _Tuesday 17th January 2012, 20:03_ ** __

_Hi,_

_It's very suspicious! I didn't even notice the missing payment. During that time my parents' estate was being handed over to me. I never met any of their tenants. I hired a financial advisor to help me, and she recommended that I keep renting the warehouses while I was still in school. She helps me lease the places if anyone moves out, and otherwise I leave them to it._

_Do you think he skipped the payment knowing that it wouldn’t be chased up? Why did he start it again in March?_

_Caven, Reeves, Malet and Ackerman are all named as officers of the company public records for Paradis Goods. There are a number of others: Aldrich Carter, Emile Dyson, Isaac Robson, Stephen Houghton, Sheryl Horne. They all came and went at some point. But the ones I named have been there since the company began._

_Uri Reiss and Levi Ackerman aren't on this record, but I'll see if I can find anything once I'm back at work tomorrow. Uri Reiss had another business but it's ancient - we're talking the 1980s! Is Levi Ackerman a son or brother?_

_I can check out the building if you like. It won't be very suspicious. I own a few warehouses so it's not that weird if I'm hanging around in the business parks. I can pretend I'm viewing an empty lot. I'll keep my distance._

_\-- Armin _

During the time between his reply and Armin’s next email, Erwin had time to look more closely at some of the current addresses of Paradis Goods, but his searches were coming up with very little interesting information, at least on the surface. He kept detailed notes anyway, adding to the various paper files lined up on his bookcase. Whenever Armin replied he couldn’t help but open each email immediately.

He continued to be impressed with the young man’s work, although he winced slightly at the reminder of just how young he was - and in contrast, how old he himself felt. The 1980s was considered ancient now? _Ouch._

Keeping this attitude to himself, he started typing;

** _Tuesday 17th January 2012, 20:29_ ** __

_Hi Armin,_

_That makes perfect sense, and such a thing can be easily overlooked during a troubling time like that. My theory is that Ackerman expected you to pay little attention to the rent because he knew your parents had passed away. He decided to save himself some money but started it up again the next month. He probably knew he wouldn’t get away with any further missed payments, and he knew by then that you intended to keep renting to him._

_I don’t recognise any of those names but a brief look tells me immediately that Robson is filed as a missing person. I’ll dig and see what else there is in his case. Nothing much comes up under the rest - only minor infractions._

_Please do look into Uri Reiss and his previous business. Levi Ackerman is the nephew of Kenny Ackerman, and the only living relative I’ve been able to find. There was also a Kuchel Ackerman - Kenny’s sister - who died in 1985. I doubt you will find anything on her but I’m very intrigued about Levi._

_It would be very helpful to have you visit the sites. Please do not take any risks, and let me know when you will be there and again when you have left, just as a precaution._

_Best wishes  
Erwin._

Later that night, Armin mused on what a piece of work this Kenny Ackerman was. As it happened, he wasn't hurting for the money, but other recently orphaned teenagers might not be so lucky, and to keep two thousand from them was malicious. There was a chance he and Erwin were really onto something here. He didn't dare tell his grandfather, who had long struggled with the loss of his only son, and wasn't one for causing a fuss. He would only worry about Armin's safety.

The next day, he tackled all the work tasks that he couldn't avoid, but he was anxious to get onto his personal projects, practically bouncing in his seat, waiting for the partners to go into a meeting. As soon as the door closed behind them, he entered all his databases, typing quickly.

_reiss, uri_

He narrowed down the dates of birth as much as possible, and found that Uri Reiss' former business had been co-owned with a Rod Reiss. Judging by the dates of birth, they were brothers. He had no current rentals, but appeared to own an apartment, a residential address on Princess Street.

_ackerman, levi_

No business results came up for Levi Ackerman, not Paradis Goods nor any other. He owned no properties and rented no properties. The man was like a ghost.

_ackerman, kuchel_

The late Miss Ackerman hadn't been connected to her brother's business either. She did come up with a long list of former rental properties, and there were even a few records of landlords applying for eviction due to non-payment of rent. The record abruptly stopped in 1985, the date of her death.

None of it rang any alarm bells, but Armin took a screenshot of her previous addresses in case Erwin could make better sense of it.

He opened up the credit history forms, and debated for a few minutes. He wasn't usually one for breaking the rules, but it would be so useful to get the credit histories for the Ackermans and the Reisses at least. Hoping that these bills slipped under the radar, he requested all the relevant checks. If anyone asked, he might have to play dumb and pretend he had made an innocent mistake.

** _Wednesday 18th January 2012, 17:54_ ** __

_Evening, Erwin!_

_I found very few details on Levi Ackerman or Kuchel Ackerman. She got evicted many times though, so I suspect she was struggling financially. Neither Levi nor Kuchel are named on company documents, but Levi does appear to work there as a normal employee._

_Uri Reiss' firm was co-owned by his brother, Rod Reiss. I have requested credit checks on the three Ackermans and the two Reisses. It will take a day or two but might turn up something useful!_

_I found a warehouse that's for sale on Priestley Road, just a couple of streets away from Dryden Avenue, so I think I will scout there this weekend, if that's OK with you? I am going alone, and I won't go in the building. I'll pretend I'm looking to 'expand my empire!' ... sorry, that sounded really big-headed. Heh._

_I promise I'll text before I go and once I leave. If anyone bothers me, I can just pretend I got lost looking for Priestley Road and ask for directions._

_\-- Armin_

Erwin went to work the next morning invigorated by the new leads they might have. The first order of the day was to check into Robson.

He pulled the file as soon as he could get into the records room without arousing suspicion. Shadis was on his case a lot and he didn't like to get caught if he could help it.

After taking photocopies of Isaac Robson’s file, he planned to read it once he got home, but within a few hours he had caved and was stealthily reading it under his desk. It was woefully low on detail, nothing but a missing person’s report filed by a cousin who became concerned when he didn’t show up to a party. Nobody had followed it up, which was strange in itself. Erwin took copies just in case - he had a strange feeling that there was more to this. Armin said that Isaac Robson was an officer of the company, and yet nobody he worked with had reported him missing, and none of them had ever been questioned.

If one of _his_ colleagues had suddenly disappeared, everyone would notice. Robson should have had a line manager, supervisors, friends, family, some colleague he goes to lunch with... heck, even an angry landlord whose rent didn’t arrive… but it seemed that only some distant cousin had realised he was gone. Why hadn’t anyone alerted the authorities, and why hadn’t the authorities cared to find out who saw him last?

** _Wednesday 18th January 2012, 19:02_ ** __

_Good evening Armin,_

_I didn’t have high hopes for Kuchel. I’m very interested in Levi Ackerman though, as Kenny’s closest living relative. Please let me know ASAP when those credit checks come back._

_Your trip to Priestley Road is a good idea. Email me when you arrive and when you leave. Maybe you will even find you do want to buy that warehouse, who knows… ;)_

_I found a missing person’s report on Robson, but no one has followed it up. I can’t even find any newspaper articles or anything much about him at all - it is extremely suspect that nobody noticed him disappearing off the face of the earth. I have a bad feeling about it._

_I believe your scouting mission to the warehouse, and the credit checks, are the thing to wait for now. I will keep checking into whatever I can on my side._

_Best wishes,  
Erwin._

** _Friday 20th January 2012, 18:34_ ** __

_Hello,_

_The credit checks came back - they are attached. It's Kenny, Kuchel, Levi, Rod and Uri. As you can see, none of them are on the sex offenders list or bankruptcy report, and only Kuchel is on the eviction search (my firm does property law and landlords like to know if their tenants have been evicted before!)._

_A few of them come up on the national or county criminal search. Levi Ackerman has been convicted twice fairly recently. Kuchel Ackerman had some drugs possession charges years back. Same for Kenny, along with a few speeding tickets. Rod Reiss has no convictions. Uri Reiss is completely clean._

_As for the finances... Kuchel's is a low score. She defaulted on a lot of bills. It looks like she rented cheap places (way below the national average) and she has a long list of former addresses. It looks like she moved every 6-12 months._

_Kenny's credit score is okay. Same with Uri. Kind of what you'd expect for two guys who work or run a business. Levi's is non-existent. He has no open credit accounts, pays no bills, doesn't even have a phone account._

_Rod's credit score is the big surprise though - it's terrible! He defaulted on his rent every single month for nine years! But he never got evicted or anything. I looked up the old address and it's a super fancy penthouse. At current prices it would be worth about four thousand a month. But the landlord didn't increase the rent over all that time, and Rod paid eight hundred every month! Eight hundred for a place like that is beyond explanation. The landlord never did anything. I don't get it._

_I'm going to Dryden Avenue tomorrow to check out the place. I'll be in touch._

_\-- Armin_

** _Friday 20th January, 2019, 19:48_ ** __

_Hello,_

_Thanks for this enlightening email. The strangest thing is Rod Reiss and his rent/credit score, I can only speculate on what might be going on but the only connection is between Kenny and Uri… I can’t find a link between Kenny and Rod._

_Our best leads at this point are the people closest to Kenny and his business - Uri, Levi and the current officers of Paradis Goods. If there is anything further you think of, concentrate on them._

_Good luck tomorrow!_

_Best wishes,  
Erwin._

On Saturday, Armin threw on a nondescript outfit and bundled up against the cold. He also gathered up a backpack with a few documents on Priestley Road in there. It was overly cautious, but if he did get caught snooping around, then this would only help his case that he was a prospective tenant for Priestley Road.

It was no bad thing that Armin was small, skinny, and kind of unimpressive. He could walk around looking like a lost kid and nobody saw him as a threat. He lost count of how many times people at university had forgotten he was even there. None of them had realised what competition he was until he came top in almost every class. Even then, when the tutor read out his name in first place, he distinctly overheard a girl whisper "Armin? Who’s Armin?" And he had shared every class with her since first year.

It didn't matter. He still outperformed everybody. Besides, he had good friends in Eren and Mikasa, they just weren't in his classes.

He drove his way down there, having told his grandfather that he was meeting up with a friend, and chose the parking lot nearest to Dryden Avenue. That gave him a good excuse to walk around the place. After sending Erwin a brief text, he grabbed his backpack and held some change in his hand, pretending he was looking for a parking meter.

The entrance was nondescript. Even on a weekend, there were a few cars parked up. Nothing looked out of the ordinary and nobody came to bother him, so he wandered off to a more distant location, sneaking himself into the overgrown shrubbery around the warehouses. Once he was sure he was out of sight, he dug out his camera, zooming in to snap a few shots of the building. The good thing about having a lot of money was that he could afford expensive toys and hobbies. He had dabbled in photography at university, but then again, he had dabbled in a lot of things. He liked to try everything and he had the time and disposable income to do it. He just hadn't realised that this is how he would use this particular talent.

He managed to snap the licence plates of the cars in the employee lot, and caught a few photos through the windows, although the glare from the winter sun was doing its best to disrupt him. This should help fill out Erwin’s data on Ackerman’s employees.

When he made it back to his car, he realised that he felt almost disappointed. It wasn’t as if he had expected to see people walking out in the open with bags full of heroin and syringes, but he had hoped for something. He so badly wanted to be useful, but it seemed as if investigating was going to be a long, slow process.


	24. Undercover Operations (9th February 2013)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armin and Erwin investigate Kenny's warehouse and make a discovery which might help their case.

Alcohol seemed pretty boring to Armin. He’d gotten most of that out of his system in his student years. Addling his senses and numbing his mind felt like a really stupid idea these days.

It was a good thing too, since Eren had one too many at Mikasa’s birthday party. Luckily, he didn’t get in any fights this time, but Armin had spent the evening gingerly patting him on the arm and smiling politely at the _you’ve always been my best friend_ speeches.

Mikasa apparently had the tolerance of an ox so she’d carried him home, almost literally. When she’d asked if Armin could get home safe, he’d agreed because he planned to call a taxi. But he hadn’t realised it would be a thirty minute wait. _Thirty minutes?_ It was only twenty minutes _walking_ to the house he shared with his Grandpa. Besides, lots of drunken football fans were filing out of clubs, and he wanted to get away from the raucous yelling as soon as possible. One of them had already mistaken him for a girl and tried his luck.

He set off on foot. He was sober anyway, or pretty close, and the streets were quiet and well-lit. It wasn’t raining, even though it was now 2am on a chilly February morning, and the few drinks he’d had were insulating him against the cold.

He’d gotten to know the back alleys fairly well during all his investigations of the Ackerman group, and he ended up taking a shortcut that he’d discovered on one of those outings, down Holly Road.

The warehouse itself caught his attention. Was he imagining things, or did something just move up there? He knew he had a bad habit of seeing shapes of people where there were just silhouettes and had always been that child with the overactive imagination. But there was something creepy about this.

Against the skyline, he could see the bare hanging limbs of the trees, brushing across the flat concrete top of the building block like fingertips swaying in the breeze. But amongst them, something was moving faster. He ducked out of the streetlamps, walking in the dark, clambering into the muddy bank where the undergrowth gave him better coverage. Thankfully, down here, he was far from the warehouse rooftop, and almost impossible to see in the dark.

The figure turned, and Armin knew he was right. It was a man, walking back and forth across the top of the warehouse building. With hands shivering and not from the cold, he grabbed his phone and texted the one person who came to mind.

_I’m at Holly Road warehouse. Someone is on the roof!_

It was rare that Erwin was awake in the early hours, even on Friday night. But he had worked enough night shifts that it had become second nature to wake up the instant his phone lit up and bleeped at him. Raising a clumsy hand to grasp for it, he waited for the screen to come into focus then sat bolt upright in bed. His sleepy fingers stumbled over the keys.

_ What are you doing there? Can you tell who it is?_

After only a moment of hesitation, Erwin pulled himself out of bed, mind racing, and got himself dressed. He could be out the door and in his car in five minutes, then it was just a ten minute drive to Holly Road. Twenty minutes maximum. Would this person still be there by then? He would never forgive himself if it turned out to be important - or worse, if something happened to Armin.

The next two replies followed quickly.

_No, I can’t see any details. Could be a tall man?_

_I’m on my way home from a party. They’re still up there. _

Erwin tapped out a one-handed reply asking for Armin’s location as he grabbed his keys and practically ran out the door. He drove as quickly as the speed limit allowed, grateful for the roads being quiet and empty at this hour. He glanced aside as his phone flashed up the details:

_Park on Worsley Road. I’m on Holly Rd, right opposite Ackerman’s place._

Within less than half an hour, Erwin had been ripped from the cosy warmth of his bed and instead found himself walking down Holly Road, keeping to the shadows with the cold February air biting at his hands.

He spotted a blond head in the shadows. “Armin,” he greeted in a hushed voice, seeing the obvious relief on his associate’s face. Armin had been panicking, willing Erwin to hurry, scared that his target would disappear before he even arrived. Silently he chastised himself for using a silly word like ‘target’. He was going to feel so foolish if it turned out to be some innocent contractor with a job to do.

Shuffling across so Erwin could blend in to the darkness beside him, he gestured timidly at the figure. “I take this shortcut back home-- but then-- this guy… look!”

Erwin followed Armin’s eyeline, catching sight of the figure, up high on the rooftop. A man, he was sure, probably quite tall, although it was hard to know how much his perspective from ground level was skewing his view. He couldn’t quite make out what he was doing but it was suspicious that anyone was there at all.

“He’s carrying something,” Armin whispered. At first he thought it was a walking stick, but it was far too long for that. He would die of shame if there was a normal explanation for all this, and he had disturbed Erwin for no reason, but who would clean gutters and rooftops at 2am in February?

Armin took a sharp urgent breath as the man on the roof raised the long stick again. He was lowering it down the edge of the building, then slowly drawing it back up.

“What’s he doing?” he whispered to himself. He could only see one side of Erwin’s face in the darkness, the distant streetlamps only just illuminating the bridge of his nose in profile and the hard set of his jaw. It struck Armin to realise that the officer was just as confused as he was.

A few seconds later, the man drew the narrow pole back up, and there was a thick, round tube hanging from the end of it.

“That’s…” Erwin whispered, overlapping with Armin’s quiet “no way!”

“That tube wasn’t there before, was it?” Armin asked, seeking reassurance. It was frustratingly difficult to pick out details in the darkness, but at least Erwin could see it for himself now. It had been doubly impossible to describe via text.

Erwin was staring upwards, blue eyes fixed on the rooftop silhouette, teeth clenched and muscles tense. He couldn’t work out what was going on, but Armin was right; the tube was new. The stranger was picking them from somewhere like it was some kind of bizarre hook-a-duck game. He shook his head.

“It wasn’t,” he confirmed. “I don’t know what he’s doing or what he’s got, it’s too dark to tell.” He frowned deeply. “I’m glad I came. I needed to see this.” He was shivering with the cold as he spoke, cursing that he hadn’t thought to grab gloves, let alone a camera or binoculars.

“We need to come back in daylight,” he concluded. “Early as possible - 8.30am. Can you make it? We need to see this building in the light, try to figure out what he’s doing, what those tubes are.”

“Yeah, I can,” Armin agreed. He would be tired as anything, but he was intrigued now. It wasn’t as if he had any other plans for Saturday; most of his friends would be nursing tonight’s hangovers.

For a second, he thought the man had left, but then he appeared again, busying himself with something around the edge of the building. They watched silently, then he disappeared again.

Armin’s heart was thumping in his chest. “Should we leave?” This side of the warehouse was fenced off, but Armin was still concerned that they might be much more visible once the man was on ground-level, and they certainly looked suspicious.

No sooner had he said it than the revving of an engine started nearby, and he saw the faint flash of brake lights streaking red up the edge of the building. Whoever the person was, they were parked in the warehouse lot on the opposite side, and now they were leaving.

Erwin insisted on driving him home, so he agreed, but he still felt sheepish about dragging the man out and about on a cold winter night. They talked about it on the way home, even though they had little new to add. It seemed Erwin couldn’t get it out of his head any more than Armin could.

Only six hours later, Erwin was picking him up again so they could head back to the same location.

“I brought some adverts, so we can pretend we’re looking for a warehouse to rent,” Armin explained, displaying the folder as they were held up at a traffic light. “I haven’t needed them yet, but it can’t hurt to have a good cover story, right?”

“Good idea,” Erwin praised, and pulled the edge of his coat aside to reveal the binoculars hanging around his neck. “I brought these, to get a closer look at the place.”

It was still quiet around the warehouse. Erwin parked up in the same spot as the night before and they walked around the corner onto Holly Road. Everything looked so different during the day and he could hardly believe they had been here only hours before, seeing the strange sight.

Erwin immediately looked up at the warehouse rooftop, scanning for anything strange. There was nothing out of the ordinary visible at this distance. He lifted the binoculars to his eyes, following the line of the roof where they had seen the figure hooking tubes. He trained his sight down the wall and it clicked.

“Drain pipes. He must have been pulling something from them. Nothing else it could be.” He handed the binoculars to Armin. “Take a look, tell me what you see.”

“That’s… genius,” Armin breathed as he took the binoculars. Erwin’s theory had to be right; there was a drain pipe right on the corner of the building where the man had been when Armin first spotted him, and another next to a tall grate where he had used the pole again. 

“It is.” Erwin’s eyes were wide with excitement, something like a smile playing on his lips.

“He was standing near where that pipe is. And some of them look cleaner than others,” Armin observed. “That one there is all grubby and wet… but that one is just a bit dusty. Some of them must be fake...” His voice trailed off as his eyes scanned the building, and he counted five pipes on this side, reaching from top to bottom. He realised he had no idea how many drainpipes usually went down the edge of a building; they were usually completely beneath his notice. Which made them perfect hiding places.

“What do you think is in the tubes?” he asked. “It has to be something illicit.”

Erwin knew there was only one thing it could reasonably be. An excitement was churning inside him as he contemplated what he could do with this information.

“Drugs,” he replied. “Possibly cash but definitely drugs. He stashes them in tubes, hides them in fake drain pipes, and only takes them out using that hook thing when nobody's around. We - I mean, the police would probably never find them, even with a warrant. And if he doesn’t tell anyone, then they’re safe from all his addicts and employees too. They’re in plain sight, where no one would think to look.” He whistled through his teeth. If he could get a warrant on this place with this specific detail then maybe, just maybe, he could finally get something to stick on Kenny Ackerman.

He walked a little further down the road, towards the warehouse grounds, beckoning for Armin to follow him. 

Armin dutifully went, though he didn't like being close to the warehouse today. It wasn't busy, but it was definitely occupied. The cars in the parking lot and the brief flashes of movement inside the large windows gave that away.

This was very different from hiding in the trees at night. He felt like a character in a movie, walking down the abandoned staircase to the basement instead of calling the cops. Then he glanced aside at Erwin and remembered that he had brought the cops with him, which bolstered his resolve.

Erwin could admit to himself that he was nervous. He hadn't informed anyone he was here - and he hadn't brought any weapons, or even his police badge. He didn't care though. He had too much invested in this and he needed as much information as they could possibly get, to give him the best chance of getting that warrant. When he looked at Armin though, he just gave him a confident smile.

They didn't manage to get even a few steps onto the actual grounds before a man approached them.

"Can I help you fellows?" he said, and it was obvious to Erwin that when he stepped in front of them it was intentional. He didn't have the look of an obvious security guard, being shorter than Erwin himself and a fair amount older, but he certainly had the authoritative tone of one.

Armin slipped into his prepared persona, trying to be as non-suspicious as possible.

"Hello, sir." He piped up quickly, thinking this would look most convincing if he was the one to speak. With his folder clutched at his chest, he resembled the schoolboy that he still often felt like. "I'm looking for..."

He unzipped the folder, gesturing to the map and the printed advert for a business premises to rent. "Uh, Brentwood Road? I get so lost wandering around all these warehouses, everything starts to look the same to me..."

He gave the man a disarming grin. Armin found that adults didn't often respond well to a kid who knew more than them. This demeanour was much safer.

"Brentwood?" the man echoed. "Ah, you've come the wrong way, Brentwood is the one opposite." He pointed back down the road, the direction they'd come. "Just out there, cross the road and turn right. The warehouse you want is down that way. You see that dark roof right there?”

"Ah..." Armin feigned a look of sudden comprehension as he turned away to look where the stranger was pointing. "Okay. Cross the road and turn right."

“First day at work or something?" the guard asked. It sounded casual but Erwin had met enough manipulators in his life to know he was fishing. It made him even more hopeful about their theory; who would be this cautious otherwise? Armin was doing a great job with the cover story and Erwin nodded along.

By the time Armin turned back towards the guard, he had plastered on a vacant, bright smile. "Oh, no - it’s up for rent and my grandpa might want it if it's big enough. He needs a big place for all his trucks, and Mr Franz is helping me, but I got the road names totally wrong..."

He waved a hand, voice turning sheepish. "Sorry, I'm babbling. Thank you for your help!"

"Sure, and good luck with it," the man said as they went. Erwin burned to look back and see if he was still watching them but he didn't dare do something so suspicious, especially when they had gotten away without drawing undue attention.

As soon as they were out of earshot, the airhead demeanour disappeared and Armin’s voice returned to normal, sinking an octave. "They're pretty vigilant, aren't they?"

"Much too vigilant. We should have at least been able to get as far as a door or office front, but we barely made it into the grounds," Erwin said as he led them back to his car, not hiding entirely how thrilled he was with this development. "I would have liked to have gotten closer, see if we could find anything else out, but this in itself is suspect."

Armin didn’t speak again until they were both in the safety of Erwin’s car. "You'll be able to search the premises now, right? How long do warrants take? Do you need me to call it in as an anonymous tip-off?" He didn't dig very often, but he knew that Erwin's activities here could land him in serious work-related troubles. There was a big difference between a concerned citizen reporting something suspicious, and a cop spying on civilians during his free time.

Armin wasn't prone to that much optimism, but it seemed merited right now. Once the cops emptied those fake drainpipes, they should have Ackerman bang to rights.

"That would be better than me bringing it in," Erwin replied, feeling very grateful indeed that he'd found Armin. If it wasn't for him he wouldn't even know about the drain pipes in the first place. "Tomorrow morning. I'll be in. Call around 10am, I'll keep my eyes peeled for the report coming through and get it escalated and myself assigned. Can you do that?"

"Mmhmm. I'll find the number and phone it in." He felt confident he could do this, and excited about the potential outcome.

Erwin was already writing the number of the precinct down for him. He tore the scrap out of his notebook and handed it over.

"Do it from a withheld line," he said, just in case Armin hadn't thought of that. "I'm going to need you again in the future, and the less connections you have with the police the better."

Erwin’s tone suddenly turned slightly stern. "Grateful as I am Armin, it was dangerous of you to come this way last night without telling me. Please be careful. I would hate if you got hurt in the course of investigating on my behalf."

At the lecture, Armin felt a sudden flush of shame. "But, sir--" He realised too late that he was talking as if to a teacher again. "I always come this way. It's the fastest way home. Surely it would be _more_ suspicious if I changed my route?"

He shook his head at Armin, though he toned down the scolding.

"Only if they knew your habits, which I doubt they do," he told him. "Just make sure to text me if you are near here, that's all. You and I know how dangerous these people can be.”


	25. Best Laid Plans (10-12th February 2013)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin's hopes are dashed, and he's looking for an enemy close to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone,  
We're estimating that on Chapter 30 we'll be back in present day with Erwin & Levi.  
Thanks for reading and for your comments, we really appreciate it!

“What are you doing here on a Sunday?” Rico asked, glancing up as Erwin approached his desk and unbuttoned his coat.

“Just some overtime,” Erwin replied cheerfully, and thankfully she just shrugged and said no more, turning back to her work. 

By the time Erwin sat down, a coffee in front of him and his PC all fired up, the clock read 9:45am. It was only a couple of hours later that Erwin, a small smile on his face, was typing up his request for an urgent warrant on the Holly Road warehouse. Armin had come through for him with the anonymous tip-off and now he could progress this case quickly; get the warrant through, get those drain pipes searched and watch Ackerman’s criminal activity fall down around his ears. He wasn’t naive enough to feel assured yet, but he allowed himself to at least feel hopeful.

It was later that day, early afternoon, when it all came crashing down around _him_ instead.

“Smith!” Shadis’ voice barked as he thundered past the desk. “I want a word with you, now.” 

Shadis’ tone startled Rico and she looked up, giving Erwin a look that said _you’re in trouble_. Erwin sighed and followed Shadis to his office, a sense of dread settling in his stomach. _Goddamnit._

“Something wrong, Chief?” he asked mildly, once the office door was closed behind him.

“Where do I begin?” Shadis’ demeanour gave Erwin the impression of a bull ready to charge. “Firstly, we request urgent warrants _very rarely_. They are for _emergencies_. Secondly, you have investigated Kenny Ackerman before. Thirdly, you have investigated _this warehouse_ before.”

Erwin had silent replies in his head, but he would only compound the chief’s anger if he interrupted.

“Moreover, you know very well that I don’t want you working these cases.” His stare could have drilled a hole through a wall, and his pitch dropped even lower than usual. “There is no justification for prioritising this. You had better have an exceptionally good reason for even opening a case.”

This needed careful thought and a cautious answer. Erwin eyed the furious Chief steadily, unintimidated but annoyed that it was going this way. He tried to look at least a little contrite.

“We received an anonymous tip off,” he explained, opting to stick to the already reasonable facts. “This morning someone called in to report suspicious activity at the Holly Road warehouse - saw someone on the roof, pulling tubes out of the drain pipes, that contained bags of white powder. I don’t see that leaves much room for interpretation.”

He held out his hands as he continued.

“As for my taking the case, I am best placed to investigate because I’ve been involved already, I know the history. I believe if someone else took the case they risk going in heavy-handed.”

Shadis gave his subordinate an disapproving look. Whatever Erwin Smith’s concerns were, he was sure that being heavy-handed wasn’t among them. He seemed to bear a huge grudge against this one person, or perhaps warehouse businesses in general.

But an anonymous tip-off about bags of powder had to be investigated. Even if it turned out to be nothing, the public was a menace if they felt they were being ignored. They had to pay lip service to pursuing it, at least.

He wasn’t about to leave it to this overexcitable rookie, though.

“You are too involved in this. And besides, you have the Ragako cases to concentrate on.” He raised his voice as he saw Erwin start up, indicating that he was not about to give way in the conversation. “Keep the case open, but hand it over to someone else.”

The younger officer looked disappointed, but agreed. “As you say, sir. Officer Brzenska was going to take it before I offered my help. I can return it to her.”

Shadis was close to agreeing, but then remembered that her desk was directly next to Smith’s. He was a tricky one, no doubt trying to keep an eye on things. “No,” he murmured slowly, looking down his list. “...Officer Woermann. He has capacity. Please complete a handover and explain the unbiased, _unexaggerated_ situation to him.”

It was disappointing, but there was nothing Erwin could do. He knew he looked glum as he put all the information back into the file, even before he noticed Rico looking at him.

“Shadis took my case off of me,” he told her before she could say anything, and with that he went in search of Woermann, careful to mask his expression. He found the man at his desk, playing a game of solitaire. He sincerely hoped that he was on his lunch break and that this wasn’t an indication of his dedication.

The handover was straight forward, although it grated on Erwin that Woermann was obviously reluctant to take the extra work, while he himself was desperate to keep it.

\---

Mike had checked the clerks’ office, the men’s room, and even the outside smoking area but there was still no sign of Erwin. Eventually he stumbled upon him almost by chance, sitting inside a store cupboard on a cardboard box, head in hands. He suddenly glanced up, but relaxed again when he saw that the intruder was just his friend.

Mike closed the door behind him, although it felt pretty claustrophobic for his large frame. Each shoulder was nearly touching the wall, and he had to crook his neck to stand upright. “Rough day?” he asked, upon being offered no explanation.

“You could say that.” Erwin’s voice sounded chafed, as if he wanted to scream instead of whisper. At least he could be grateful that it wasn’t Shadis or some office clerk who had found him in the middle of a breakdown. He peered up, his eyes tired and somehow less bright. “Do you have some time? I could use a walk.”

It had to be drastic for Erwin to even ask. Mike should have warned someone if he was going on a break, but decided this was no time to abandon his friend.

“Yeah. All the time in the world.”

Erwin stood up and straightened himself out, feeling slightly sheepish for being found in a cupboard. He didn’t speak again until they were outside. “I hope no one noticed me storming off like that.”

Mike could see the troubled look on his face, but he also suspected that Erwin was a lot more subtle than he realised. He may think his complete breakdown was obvious, but on the outside, he just looked tired and a little grumpy.

“Doubt it. And nobody said anything,” he answered, nonchalant as possible. He still had no idea if Erwin was worried about work, or if something personal had happened. After some silence, he prodded gently. “So what got to you?”

Erwin’s heavy brows were furrowed, the beginnings of a headache laid on top of the ongoing stress. “The Ackerman case has completely fallen apart... completely dead.”

Mike matched his frown. He wasn't even aware that anything was proceeding against Ackerman, not since the last warehouse searches had turned up nothing. “I thought that was ages ago.”

“I… had some new information.” Erwin sighed heavily. He usually voiced little of his plans, but now he needed to offload this burden. All his anger at Shadis and frustration at his lack of progress was starting to feel overwhelming. “I requested an urgent warrant for a search on Ackerman's warehouse. Except last week Shadis took the case off me and gave it to Woermann…”

Mike had worked with Kitz Woermann longer than Erwin had. As far as he could tell, Woermann was a solid beat cop, but Mike knew he had never been promoted and wasn't gifted with complex cases... nor nerves of steel. In fact, he seemed to crack when faced with challenging scenarios.

“Odd choice,” he observed, obviously puzzled.

“I'm sure Shadis just wanted it out of my hands.” Erwin’s resentment leaked into his tone. “Anyway, I handed it over, told him I’d already requested the urgent warrant, begged him not to downgrade it and he agreed.” 

“But it was even worse. Somehow the warrant got completely cancelled. And Woermann didn't notice, didn't chase it up... nothing. I made him call, and they said it was cancelled by our station.”

Mike sighed. Typical that a filing error would screw up the one case that had Erwin so invested. “Did Kitz re-request it?”

“Yes, but he requested it as a normal one. So now we have to wait two more days until it comes through - from today!”

It seemed unlikely to Mike that this investigation would have turned up any more than the last few, so he didn’t see the warrant as much of a loss. “I get why you’re impatient, but just investigate it when the warrant turns up. Tag along if you want. Kitz won't argue.” He chuckled, thinking about how Woermann would gladly accept any backup.

By contrast, Erwin was shaking his head, still looking distressed. “It's all pointless now.” He hesitated, deciding quickly how much he could safely disclose to his friend.

“The evidence is gone. Don't ask me how I know that, but I do. In the time between the warrant being cancelled and now, its been removed.” He had re-read Armin’s text ten times, head spinning, before leaving his desk in a dissociated haze. **The drain pipes are gone.** All of his optimism, burned up in five words.

Mike’s question plucked him from his thoughts. “How would Ackerman know that a warrant was even requested? I know damn sure _you_ didn't give him any warning.”

“There no way he could.” Erwin answered in an instant, very firmly. “I’ve… observed, but I’ve had no contact with him. He couldn’t - he _shouldn’t_ know anything.”

His voice dropped to a mumble. “That warrant being cancelled has ruined everything.”

Not for the first time, Mike felt as if Erwin’s mind was leaps ahead and leaving him trailing. “I don't get it. If he didn't know, then why is the evidence gone?” He was picturing boxes packed full of Class A drugs, suddenly being moved to a new location. How would Ackerman know the police were coming?

“Exactly! Why _is_ the evidence gone?” Erwin was wearing a grim expression. “I don't want to think it's any foul play, but…”

Mike was catching up. “You think he got a tip-off?”

“I don't see what else it could be. It's too much of a coincidence. That evidence was there until only a few days ago. Then suddenly it's gone. And the warrant is cancelled. By _our_ station.” He tried not to sound bitter, but it was clear he was both disappointed and angry.

As soon as Erwin hinted that there could be a spy on the force, Mike wondered if he was suspicious about Shadis. The idea made him bristle; it seemed so unlikely.

“Nothing like that has ever happened to me,” he stated, gesturing with a large hand. “Sure, things have gotten mis-filed and held up or forgotten... none of it was suspect though.”

“It's Ackerman,” Erwin argued, aware of how obsessed he was beginning to sound. “In my opinion. My theory. He could have someone in his pocket, couldn’t he? Someone loyal to him? So if no other cases get disrupted, that would make sense.”

Mike was still uncertain. “Has anything like this interfered with you investigating him before?” The words had barely left his lips before he remembered that Erwin was practically banned from these cases, and that was Shadis' decision alone. If his friend suspected a spy, the chief was the obvious culprit.

“I've barely had a chance to investigate him,” Erwin complained. “But the previous searches went through fine. Except, of course, they found nothing…”

“If it's only happened once…” Mike trailed off, thinking that Erwin was jumping to conclusions too quickly but not knowing how to gently phrase it. “It could be human error,” he suggested softly.

“Human error got an urgent warrant cancelled?” Erwin’s tone was sharp. 

“And it was definitely--”

“Cancelled, yes. Not mis-filed. Cancelled. I checked personally. And then I had Woermann confirm it, just to be sure. They got a call from us on the same day saying it had been resolved and we no longer needed it. Woermann has put in another low-priority warrant, but it’s pointless now anyway. It's all gone, like I said. They won't find anything.”

Mike could tell how devastated Erwin was to lose the trail on Ackerman, but was personally more concerned that his friend’s job would be in jeopardy when this search came through and showed up nothing again. He doubted that Shadis was corrupt, but he was certainly angry. “You can be cautious,” he advised. “But don’t get wedded to this corruption theory. You don’t want to get paranoid without good reason.”

“You’re right,” Erwin conceded aloud, but deep down, he was already convinced. For a moment he wondered why he was lying, but then he looked at his friend again.

_What if it’s you?_

In a split-second he shook it off again as a moment of madness. He had known Mike too long. Nothing would make his friend cover for his father’s killer. But one thing had become abundantly clear to Erwin; he was the only one who could see how deep Ackerman’s roots had sunk. Mike might mean well. Shadis might even mean well. But Erwin could not afford to be open with anyone who was underestimating the enemy.


	26. Mad Scientists (21st January 2014)

Erwin had come to see the pathologist assigned to the case of Julian Hart, and was making his way down to the office marked 'Dr H Zoe'. Rather than accept the information over the phone, he saw merit in meeting with her and introducing himself. Now that he was Superintendent he finally had a rank he could use to influence. He had seen how it worked with Chief Shadis, a man who was not usually the sharpest in the room, getting all of the respect and attention. Power was persuasive. He intended to use that clout to his advantage.

He reached the door with its sliver of glass in the centre and knocked, waiting for permission. 

"Yo-o-o."

Assuming that counted as affirmation to enter, Erwin turned on a smile but it was wasted effort, immediately being replaced by a bemused look. Even though Dr Zoe had only been in post for a few months, she was making herself right at home if the state of the cluttered office was any indication. There were papers and books, ornaments on the shelves, bottles of god-knows-what, and barely a spare surface.

The culprit stood brazenly behind the desk, lab coat still on, along with thick glasses, and wispy brown hair that escaped its high-tied ponytail here and there. Dr Jackson, the pathologist who usually handled most police cases was much older, very serious and exceptionally professional… all in all, nothing like Dr Zoe appeared. But he had lacked the particular qualities that Erwin needed; real enthusiasm to find the truth, and an ability to think outside the box. He was already hopeful about this new investigator.

"Dr Zoe - I am Superintendent Erwin Smith," he greeted, navigating piles of clutter to approach her as he held out a hand. "A pleasure to meet you."

She beamed back at her visitor, slamming one palm on the desk of paper, and thrusting the other out to meet Erwin’s handshake.

"Nice to meet you too, Super Nintendo Erwin Smith!" 

"Super..." Erwin echoed before spotting her mischievous grin, realising she knew exactly what she had said. He chuckled. "I suppose that's _almost_ my name."

Dr Zoe continued unabated. "Now let me guess..." She swept a stack of folders aside, clearing a space on her desk, then slapped one file down in the centre.

"You are here for Mr Julian Hart. Interesting guy. More interesting on the inside than the outside, I bet.” Erwin raised an eyebrow at the morbid comment, but she was already waving her hands at the chair on his side of the desk.

“Go ahead, go ahead," she insisted. "Just chuck that over, uh, somewhere."  
With a polite nod, Erwin picked up the small stack of papers that was on the chair and carefully placed them onto the floor so that he could take the seat for himself.

"Ah… yes. I'm here to discuss Mr Hart’s case," he continued. “Tell me what you found from your investigations?" Impatient, his eyes tracked down to her notes on the front of the folder. One word stood out immediately; cardiomyopathy. He couldn't keep the disappointment from his expression.

Dr Zoe tracked his eyeline. "Yep." She nodded gravely and rotated the folder so Erwin could read it properly. "Dilated cardiomyopathy to be exact. I can see why it was suspicious." She tapped the checkbox on the top of the referral sheet, labelled “Sudden (in Apparent Health)”. "He's only 33 - barely older than me. But I don't spend my time... doing this."

She tapped the heading 'Toxicology Report', twisting her body over the desk so she could read it from the same angle. "Ethanol found. Cocaine found. Codeine found. Dexamethasone found. Everything found! And we are _not_ talking small doses, Nintendo."

"The drugs don't surprise me, nor the quantities," Erwin confessed. "Mr Hart was known to me as someone heavily involved in that world." His sharp eyes met hers, watching her closely. Once drugs were found, most forensics departments dismissed everything else. "Tell me, Dr Zoe, did you notice anything else strange while examining him, other than the quantity of narcotics?"

“Woah, woah. Dr Zoe is my dad. Or at least it would be, if he was a doctor. I’m just Hanji.” 

Erwin pulled an exasperated smile. “Hanji, then. Was there anything else?”

"This is just the summary," Hanji assured him, fingers flicking through pages lightning fast, indicating a whole stream of notes and reading key phrases from each page. "No unusual marks on the skin... no unexplained bruising... no injuries... organs are normal. It all checks out with the way he was found."

She settled back in her chair, clasping her hands as she watched Erwin complete the reading. "No telltale signs other than what you'd expect for an addict, and even those marks are old. Seems he wasn't big on injectables. A couple of scars that all match his history. And your notes said..."

She flipped to the last page. "Found by roommate, no signs of forced entry, no sign of property being damaged or stolen." She shrugged. "Sorry, buddy. I did a deep dive but that's all there is to it. No foul play. I guarantee it."

Erwin was impressed by the extensive nature of Hanji's notes, and he read through them thoroughly as he listened to her talk. She was much better than any other pathologist he'd spoken to, with thorough explanations that led him to believe she had truly gone through every possibility.

"You are the first person in your role that I have confidence in," he confessed. "You care about your work. About getting it right." He leaned back in the chair, hoping she would divulge her motivations. "For most doctors, drugs would be enough of an explanation. Were you hoping it would turn out to be a murder..?"

She glanced around the room at the stacks of paper, the strange nick-nacks and the chaos. “Don’t let me fool you. I am still a scientist. Finding out the truth is my job. Besides…” She grinned with an incongruous brightness. “I _always_ assume it’s murder! Especially when it comes from your people.”

That statement made Erwin laugh, very lightly. She apparently had no idea what kind of attitude he was used to dealing with, of the sparse notes and frustrating apathy that frequently lived within the pages of the files at the station. Only a rare few had even been properly examined; the path lab wasn’t cheap, and most officers didn’t bother if the victim was a known addict. Erwin was already starting to like his new doctor, in spite of her apparent mad lack of organisation and her strange jokes. He was sitting up high in the chair, paying close attention as he tried to figure her out.

“Assumption of murder is an excellent strategy. In this case, I can unfortunately see that that is not the case.” He suddenly realised how that must have sounded, and hastily continued. “Not that I want to see people murdered, you understand…! But I do want to see criminals go to jail where they belong. Mr Hart had ties to a drug distribution network that I’m working on cracking. If he had been murdered, it might have been a lead.”

Hanji leaned over the table, her huge eyes only exaggerated by her goggle-type glasses. "Cracking a network...! Like a murder mystery..."

She leaned back again, pointing decisively at Erwin. "Make sure I get those cases. I'll be even more careful than usual." A stack of paper files finally lost traction and slipped from the top of a tower behind her, raining sheets onto the floor as if to prove her wrong. Her pleased expression didn’t falter, and neither did Erwin’s optimism. She was new and motivated, and could root out the ingrained attitudes that had settled in, just as he was trying to do at the station. He couldn’t help but smile.

"I can see your enthusiasm," he said. "I think that we will be able to work very well together. I intend to bring every case possible on this matter to your attention."

He glanced at the paperwork that had slid onto the floor, entirely ignored by Hanji, and it made him think of the young man who had assisted Hanji's predecessor. He must have his hands full if she was now his superior.

"Have you kept Moblit on board?" he asked.

"Oh yeah," she said, grabbing the phone, and without asking, dialled Moblit's extension. "I'll tell him to come say hi," she whispered over the dial tone, pointing at the handset.

The other end of the line crackled. _"Good morning, Dr Berner--"_

The distant reply barely started before she grabbed the edge of the desk.

"Moblit! Get in here, I spilled a bunch of formaldehyde--"

She slammed the phone down, then smiled at Erwin, blinking and patiently waiting. It was quickly becoming apparent that Hanji was a law unto herself, and Erwin was completely taken back, a rare occasion for him. He was just about to ask if she did this kind of thing to everyone, when the door was thrown open and her harried assistant burst in, frantically looking around.

"Dr Zoe!" he exclaimed. "Where's the spill? Please be more careful!"

"Oh, I fixed it." Hanji smiled knowingly. She wasn't waiting around for Moblit to finish whatever he was doing, and feigning an emergency was a surefire way to get a quick response. "Heh. I think I’ll keep him,” she said to Erwin, talking about Moblit like a stray she picked up at the pound.

"You fixed it, Dr Zoe?" Moblit said, frowning in confusion. Then he sighed heavily, realising what was going on. "You really can't keep doing this, please - just _ask_ me to come and see you!" The problem was that Dr Zoe did often spill things and knock things over in her excitement, so he had to treat every instance as real. He wasn't sure if he was pleased or not to hear that she planned on keeping him; he changed his mind on a daily basis.

"Sure, sure! Anyway.” She pointed at Erwin. "This is Nintendo. He's a policeman."

Erwin turned to smile apologetically at the harassed man, noting his unkempt hair and his panting for breath. In response, Moblit cocked his head to the side, looking puzzled.

"This is Officer Smith... not Nintendo. I’ve met him before."

“I believe Dr Zoe is referring to my new title of Chief Superintendent,” Erwin explained.

"Oh, I see-..." Moblit thought better of asking how one got from that to Nintendo. If he spent his days trying to figure out Hanji’s leaps in logic, he wouldn’t get any of his actual work done. Instead he approached Erwin, offering a handshake. "Congratulations on your promotion," he said sincerely.

"I was just discussing our friend Julian," Hanji announced. "With _Mis-ter Smith."_ She said the name in an overly formal pompous voice, as if it was ridiculous. "And telling him that I am very particular about my work. Aren't I?"

Moblit's eyes scanned over the chaotic room and the cluttered desk in front of them. "Despite appearances, actually... yes." he confessed.

Erwin took that as a good sign. Moblit had a nervous disposition, but he was still a competent scientist. Besides, Hanji wouldn’t be here if she didn’t have the credentials. She might be eccentric, but some of his fellow officers would have said the same about him.

His mood was buoyed as he headed back towards the station. The pathology lab and his station had both gotten lazy. The rampant nature of drugs in this city meant that any death could be written off as an overdose, and his colleagues were too quick to minimise investment by closing a case quickly. Now he was getting somewhere; Mike at the station, Hanji in forensics, Armin investigating… he finally had some allies. Now he needed Ackerman to be generous enough to make a mistake that he could capitalise upon.


	27. Self Defense (11th April 2016)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A fight breaks out at a party and Kenny's friend calls upon Levi for help.

Mayrah was still sobbing when she reached the house she was seeking, mascara streaming down her red, swelling cheeks in stinging lines. It was dark and she’d had a lot to drink, but she'd managed to stumble her way here. With one shaking fist, she thumped hard on the door.

She only let seconds pass without an answer before knocking again. Even her quiet sobbing seemed loud against the silence of the night and she was afraid that someone would come up behind her. Her thoughts descending into panic, she was about to knock a third time when the door creaked open. 

Rather than the man she expected, she found herself facing Kenny’s dark-haired nephew. 

“K-Kenny in?”

“No…” Levi answered slowly, squinting in the darkness. “Is that…?”

He reached back without taking his eyes off her, feeling around for the hallway light switch. The sudden fluorescent glow made it clear that her eyes were swollen by more than just crying, the red marks radiating up the side of her face. Levi’s experience told him they were caused by fists.

This was the last thing he wanted to deal with, but she couldn’t be left there. He held the door open, gesturing for her to come in. A cautious glance down the street both ways told him that she wasn’t being followed.

Grateful to at least have found _someone_, Mayrah stepped inside, also glancing back to see if Carl had followed her. She had imagined it the entire way, his heavy footsteps pounding on the pavement, but thankfully there was no one there. She hurried into the house nonetheless, hunching her trembling shoulders and pacing frantically back and forth in the corridor. The sleeve of her dress became her tissue as she used it to wipe at her weeping eyes and bleeding lip, though the tears and blood kept flowing, making it a pointless endeavor. She was still crying as Levi talked into his phone.

“Oi, Kenny,” he said, without introduction. “One of your friends is here. In bad shape.” He glanced up at her. “Name?”

"Mayrah," she said thickly. "Carl, he was f-fucked, really fucked.."

On the other end of the phone, Kenny was huffing, loud enough to be heard by both of them.

"Bad shape? Whaddya mean, what the hell happened to her? Whatever Levi, just keep her there! I'm on my way, fuck’s sake."

“How…” Levi began. **_Click._**

“...long will you be?” he finished grumpily, talking to a dead line.

With a sigh, he set his phone down on the counter. Now what was he supposed to do with an injured victim? He didn’t really want any details, knowing it would be some sketchy situation. And he had only just made himself some tea. Typically, he had been looking forward to a quiet night. So much for that.

Using the rest of the water in the kettle, he made a second cup of tea, very strong and very sweet. He’d heard somewhere that it was good for shock. It might not be true, but it couldn’t hurt to try. It would have made him feel better, anyway.

The rushing noise of the boiling kettle filled the room. The woman was still acting like a spooked animal, peeking between the blinds, taking a few steps then returning to the window, but she was beginning to feel calmer now that she wasn’t alone.

“Here.” Levi handed the mug to her, subtly appraising her injuries as she eagerly accepted it in both hands. She had definitely been struck in the face more than once. No sign that weapons were used. She was dressed up, kind of fancy, and she looked shaky and unfocused, but there was no telling if it was alcohol, substances, or just the events of her night. “Kenny’s on his way.”

Her eyes were wide, and her voice was thick as she rambled on. "Thank god, I feel like h-hell. Carl's always been a shithead when he's high, but he's n-never done anything this bad before, I mean I didn't deserve this! I didn't, I just didn't want him in my house anymore, not when he was being like that. We were having such a good time, why did he have to ruin it?" She sniffed loudly, on the edge of bursting into tears again.

“Carl…” Levi repeated. “Older guy? Dark skin, black hair, this big?” He held up a hand, but she shook her head, momentarily looking confused.

“No… oh.” She settled on the sofa, still clutching her mug. “You’re thinking of Karlos. I mean Carl, he’s, big, like… real chunky. My age. Long hair, big beard? Works down at Ellesmere?”

Levi’s expression turned to one of alarm as she erased his mental image and replaced it with a very different one. The Carl he now pictured was easily 6’4”, probably triple this girl’s weight, a powerhouse of a man. “Piece of shit,” he muttered, picturing the fight between them.

“No kidding,” she whispered, tears falling into her lap. Levi wasn’t sure how to handle the situation, and an awkward silence began.

It was soon mercifully interrupted by a skid of tyres outside. The woman’s eyes tracked the room back and forth like a skittish mouse, and Levi’s fingertips traced the knife at his back out of instinct.

But the visitor was exactly who he expected. The door flung open and Kenny marched straight in.

"Oi, oi, oi," Kenny called out, looking straight at Mayrah, eyes wide at her condition. He approached and placed a hand on her chin, lifting her face upwards so he could take a better look at the injuries. "What a mess, eh?" He turned his gaze towards Levi. "I bet you know where there's a clean cloth or somethin'. Go get it, and be quick."

Mayrah put her tea down, spilling some of it in her haste, and grabbed hold of Kenny’s hand, holding onto it like a lifeline.

"That son of a bitch Carl hit me," she told him without waiting to be asked. “It stings like hell, the others will tell you, they were all there-" Her eyes filled with tears again. Kenny sighed.

“Alright, alright, no need to blubber - I’ll sort things with the fucker.”

Levi glowered at the spilled tea, but he supposed he couldn’t be angry with this woman in the state she was. He collected a damp cloth and some half tube of antiseptic cream that he found in a cupboard under the sink, while Kenny questioned her.

“What the fuck’s his problem, anyway?” his uncle was saying.

“We were at mine, and he started acting the way he does, you know--”

Kenny chuckled. “Yeah. Size of the fucker and he still acts like a first time drinker every time.”

Unlike Kenny, Mayrah was speaking urgently, with no hint of amusement. “He starts pulling all my pictures off the wall, saying some shit about his sister or something, and I told him to stop, and then he starts punching the walls too, I got these spotlights in the kitchen and he starts yanking them out, there’s like, wires everywhere.” She took a sharp breath as Kenny pressed the cloth to her injuries, hissing like a wounded cat, then gathered herself and carried on. “So I told him to leave and he just -- _flipped_, like deranged, he hit me, and he hit Jessie, and Frank tried to stop him so he kicked the wall-- fuck, Kenny, he might still be in my house, tearing it all up--”

"-If he's still tearin' up the place, I'll see he fuckin' pays for it, alright? Hell, I'll make sure he pays for whatever he's already done, includin' this." He patted at Mayrah’s cheek with surprising gentleness. The blood was all cleaned up, though it didn't do much for her looks; she was still badly swollen around her lip and eye. It looked likely to bruise up over the next few days.

Levi was listening from a distance, watching Kenny at work. It was a long time since he had done any side work for his uncle, but this one would be a genuine justice.

“Do I need to go and speak to Carl?” he asked darkly.

"Eh?" said Kenny, bemused to hear that from his nephew. "You never offer that shit. I have to fight tooth and nail to make you do it. Havin' a change of heart?" He huffed a laugh.

“Special circumstances,” Levi muttered.

"Good for you, but nah, I got this. Carl needs some of _my_ personal attention." He wiped his hands on the cloth, then dropped it next to the spilled tea. “Stay here, both of you.”

Levi eyed his uncle uneasily as he made to leave in a hurry. “Oi, Kenny--” He darted out into the corridor after him, pulling the door closed behind him so that Mayrah would witness as little as possible. “What kind of _personal attention_ are we talking?” he whispered, suspiciously.

Kenny laughed as if he thought Levi an idiot for even asking.

“Nothin’ to upset your _sensibilities_,” he replied, matching the low tone. “Don’t get your dick in a knot over it - I’m just goin’ over there to tell him what’s what. He can’t act like a fuckin’ ass and beat up my girls.” He shrugged, but he could see the skepticism in Levi’s face wasn’t going away. “Look, Carl’s valuable alright? He spends a lot, he’s useful - big intimidating guy, and he’s been around a long time. Think I’m gonna just...” He glanced at the gap in the door, then drew a finger across his neck, pulling an expression of disbelief. “Not tonight.”

That was a pretty plausible argument, and Kenny didn’t have the look of someone who wanted to go out and commit murder tonight. If he wanted rid of Carl that badly, he’d be on the phone to Sannes by now.

“Fine.” Levi followed his uncle’s glance towards the door. The woman wouldn’t want to go back to the house, or be left alone. “I’ll stay here.”

Without another word Kenny left the house, slamming the door behind him. A moment later the door behind Levi creaked open, and Mayrah’s head poked out.

“He’s gone?” she asked, though the answer was obvious. “But you’re staying, right? In case he comes here?” She focused on him with a pleading expression, though her injuries made her look pathetic enough as it was. “Kenny, he’ll take care of things, he always does...” She went on for a while like this, adulating Kenny. Levi didn’t know whether it was because she really believed it or because she wanted to make sure that if Levi told him anything about her, it would be that she only had good things to say.

Levi encouraged her to lie on the sofa, half for her sake and half to avoid further conversation. She settled down and he thought she had fallen asleep, but when the door finally opened almost an hour later, she instantly tensed like a cat ready to run. Kenny’s hand shoved the living room door open but he didn’t enter, instead pointing at her from the shadowy hallway.

“Come,” he said, beckoning her with a finger. “I’m takin’ you home. Quick about it!” It was painfully obvious that he was avoiding looking directly at Levi. He moved to usher Mayrah out of the door, and when he turned to do so Levi could see a long, deep laceration, all the way from Kenny’s temple to his cheekbone.

“Kenny--” Levi stood up, noticing the odd way he loitered in the doorway, not turning the hallway light on. As soon as the woman reached him, he cast an arm about her shoulders and was ready to go.

“What the fuck happened?” His uncle wore plenty of scars and had been in plenty of fights, but to clean up Mayrah’s injuries and not even stop to stem his own was pretty strange. And he was taking too long to answer.

_“Kenny.”_

For a split second Kenny met Levi’s gaze; the look in his eyes was wild, even threatening. He said nothing, just swept Mayrah out and Levi could hear her anxious tone asking Kenny questions of her own.

“-what happened Kenny, did you see him? Did he leave? Is my house alri-”

Her voice faded out as they moved away from the house and towards the car. Levi stared after them, then seeing nothing else to do but wait. While it was a relief not to make small talk with a near-stranger, he couldn’t settle until he knew what had unfolded.

Kenny walked into the house nearly half an hour later, finding Levi on the sofa with a fresh cup of tea. 

“Don’t even fuckin’ start,” he snapped, pulling off his coat and throwing it down on the chair. 

Levi observed his uncle looking more wearied and haggard than ever. The deep cut down his face just made it worse. Maybe he thought he could talk to his nephew the way he talked to his leashed addicts and hookers, but he was about to be corrected.

“Tell me what happened.” He pointed at the wound. “Carl do that?”

“Who else!” Kenny snapped as he rolled his eyes. “Give me something to clean it with, where’s that cloth gone eh?” He held out his hand as if Levi was going to produce it from his person. “Carl’s a fuckin’ maniac, alright? High and drunk and stupid, he came at me with a broken bottle. A goddamn _bottle_! Some people’ve got no class, eh Levi?”

“Guess not,” he murmured to himself, getting a new cloth since the other had been thrown out. Practically all of Kenny’s associates had trifled with disease, either from hooking or being hooked or sharing needles. No bloody cloth was staying put in this house, let alone being used twice.

He handed the fresh one to Kenny along with the antiseptic cream. “How bad did you injure him?” Carl was not an easy target, and it would have been hard to imagine Kenny taking him to task if Levi hadn’t seen just how well his uncle could fight.

Kenny patted the cloth to his wounded cheek as he looked his nephew straight in the eyes. He’d been thinking about this on the journey back, what to say to Levi when he undoubtedly asked. Admitting something like this was always dangerous, yet Levi was bound to find out eventually. He shrugged.

“He ain’t gettin’ up again.”

Levi stared at Kenny but the words got stuck. He was being uncharacteristically honest. And he wasn’t about to shed tears over Carl, but…

“...How do you expect to get away with this?” He swore his uncle was trying to get sent down for something. “Where is he?”

“Relax, brat. Already thought of all that shit,” Kenny crowed, tapping his forehead. “Got a deal with Mayrah, she’s gone to a friend’s place and is gonna call the police, tell ‘em about the attack. The body’s at her house, let them find it. There were loads of people at that party, saw what Carl did to her, could’ve been anyone. And I cleaned up - place is a fuckin’ state anyway, Carl tore it up, so no-one’s gonna know what’s what. See Levi? I ain’t so stupid.”

Levi didn’t speak unsure how to feel about all this. In the silence, Kenny continued. “He didn’t give me a choice. You seen my face? And what he did to her? He was acting nuts, fucking flew at me. Had to defend myself, didn’t I...”

There were a million ways this could go wrong, Levi thought. Mayrah’s nerves might not hold out, the police might trace Kenny’s DNA, or someone might have seen him going back in there, someone might have heard it or already called the police…

But for once, he didn’t fear being dragged into this mess. He’d barely ever _seen_ Carl or Mayrah, hadn’t been at the party, had never been to her house. He would definitely be in a tight spot if his uncle got sent down, since he had never found another place to work, but if there was a chance Kenny would actually end up paying for his crimes then Levi wasn’t going to intervene. Carl might have struck first, but plenty of Kenny’s victims hadn’t.

“And she’ll stick to the story?” Levi asked.

Kenny took the offered antiseptic, dabbing it on his cheek. “Motherfu--” He hissed. “Son of a _bitch._” Regaining some focus he answered through gritted teeth and obvious pain. “Yeah, yeah no doubt. Mayrah’s no idiot. No-one’s gonna think she did it, tiny pint-size that she is… heh, no offence.” He eyed Levi from top to bottom, grinning. 

Levi felt oddly calm considering somebody had died. It didn’t carry the same terrible regret as Kenny’s previous murders. Maybe it was because Carl had been such a piece of shit. Maybe because Levi had seen Mayrah’s injuries. Maybe because he believed that Kenny really had been struck first. His uncle didn’t really make shit up like that, and the wound matched his story, all serrated like a glassing rather than a careful knife cut, dangerously close to his eye.

“Alright.”

“I’m goin’ back to Winterford, because I’m at the factories tomorrow,” Kenny said, planning his day as if he hadn’t just left a murder scene. “If anyone comes sniffin’, you didn’t see me all night.” With his departure, the chaos died as quickly as it had arisen.


	28. Close Shave (18th August 2017)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi foils one of Kenny's crimes in progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for sticking with us everyone - this is the last 'flashback' chapter. From here onwards we'll be back with Levi and Erwin in their safehouse (aka Erwin's bachelor pad).

It was an ordinary warehouse day and by about 3pm, Levi was beyond ready to leave. The temperature had leaped up since August began, so the other staff had dialed up the air-con, and now he was shivering despite the sunshine pouring in through the windows.

Today, he was packing innocent parcels. For some reason, they were brand new glasses cases, all fancy and quilted leather. Kenny’s buying and selling never seemed to make sense to him. It was always odd things, like plastic cups or stackable chairs or shelf units. Somehow he always ended up making money while trading though. In fact Levi didn’t understand why he didn’t just pursue legitimate business; he wasn’t half bad at it. But without fail, after a few weeks of clean parcels, a sudden shipment of narcotics would arrive. Sometimes it was from Duran or one of Sannes’ military contacts, sometimes it was prescription pills that had been siphoned out of a hospital, sometimes pure ingredients slipped out directly from the factory. So Levi was always relieved when he got to his station and found normal inventory.

After boxing up each one and taping bubble wrap around them, he squished them into a large cardboard box. It wasn’t exciting work, but it kept him paying his way without needing to raise his fists or risk more jail time. The more boring life was, the better.

Almost as soon as that thought crossed his mind, he heard raised voices. It was like he had tempted fate, but apart from rolling his eyes he didn’t react. It was a woman, shouting at his uncle. Nothing new there.

The walls of Kenny’s so-called office blotted out most of the sound, muffling the words. It went on for a good ten minutes. It was only when Levi got down from his high stool to go and collect some parcel tape for his box that he saw something unusual.

Instead of the peroxide, stick-thin, scantily-clad girl he had pictured, it was a short, stout woman dressed head to toe in a coloured sari with a dark wrap about her head and neck. Levi couldn’t see her face, but he could see Kenny’s. Scrunched up in fury, his uncle was staring menacingly at the woman. Levi didn’t even catch his attention as he passed by the window towards the steel cabinet.

Intrigued, he dragged the stool to this location, bringing his box with him and making himself look busy. Kenny eventually flicked a hand at the woman dismissively. It was a gesture Levi recognised, usually accompanied by the words “run along, brat!” 

But when Kenny walked back around the other side of his desk, his visitor followed him resolutely, and now Levi could see half of her face. She was older, perhaps in her fifties or sixties, and her face was completely contorted with emotion. As soon as she followed, Kenny grabbed her wrist, shoving her with some force towards the door. Levi stood quickly, seeing the whole situation about to turn south, but the woman reacted first. Raising her hand high, she slapped Kenny hard across the face. The sound was as muted as the conversation, but from the way Kenny’s head snapped to the side, it had been no small gesture.

In the split second that followed, Levi saw Kenny’s hand go to his belt, and all his nerves lit on fire all at once. Without thinking twice he leapt onto his stool, the force of his movement sending it clattering to the floor as he vaulted over the table and wrenched the office door open. He got there just as his uncle unsheathed his knife, standing between the pair, grasping Kenny’s wrist.

Breathless, he said nothing, wide eyes locked onto his uncle.

“Outta my face,” Kenny snarled. “Now! This bitch has it comin’!” The vein was pulsing at his temple, his teeth clenched and bared like an untamed animal. His eyes had turned glassy and dark, the way they always did. It reminded Levi of a shark when he looked like that and it always signalled danger. Even worse, he wasn’t even focused on Levi. He was locked on to the woman as if she had a death wish and he was desperate to fulfil it.

All of Levi’s instincts were directed at Kenny because he was the threat, but then suddenly the woman wailed, practically screaming at the sight of the knife. He couldn’t help but squint, cringing. Nobody was likely to come running. Even if they heard the commotion, they knew better than to respond. But the noise itself was more likely to antagonise Kenny and give him an excuse to silence her.

Levi took a gamble. Keeping both hands locked around Kenny’s wrist, he kicked out with one foot on Kenny’s ribs, letting go just in time to push him backwards with all the force he could muster. It wasn’t a kick so much as a shove, but it put blessed distance between the two.

“Oi!” Kenny grunted as Levi shunted him backwards, surprised at the movement. He nearly toppled backwards from the force. “Little fucker!” he growled, but the room was already empty. Levi had grabbed the woman about the shoulders and hurried her out of the door, slamming it behind him. He was half leading her and half dragging her, but apart from a split-second of surprise she offered no resistance, letting him bundle her away. No doubt she had changed her mind about this ‘meeting’ once she realised just what she was facing.

It took a few seconds for Kenny to right himself and open the door again, and then he thundered past the warehouse benches in pursuit. Though his knife was in his hand he had just enough sense left in him to avoid jumping them like he wanted. Instead he reached out to grab Levi with his spare hand, taking hold of a fistful of his shirt and yanking as hard as he could, catching them just shy of the fire exit for which Levi was aiming.

His nephew made a strangled sound as Kenny pulled him back with Herculean strength, forcing him to release the woman. The knife was still flashing in his hand, and in its reflection, Levi saw the silhouette of his charge standing behind him with outstretched hands.

Urgently, he half-turned to face her, trying to keep track of Kenny at the same time. He nodded towards the ridged metal staircase, just beyond an open door. “Go.” She looked frightened out of her wits but was still planted firmly to the floor, as if she didn’t want to abandon him to this either.

Levi wished he could tell her that he could handle it, but Kenny would snap if he heard something so dismissive. It was clear that his uncle was ready for a fight, and would probably be disappointed if he didn’t get one.

_“Go!”_ Levi repeated, raising his voice, before turning away. He had to hope she obeyed, because every split second that he wasn’t watching his target was an unfathomable risk. Turning his back on an armed, furious Kenny was practically asking to die. He didn’t take another breath until he heard the leathery slap of her sandals disappearing into the distance on the lino floor, the gratitude washing over him. Now he could deal with this without anyone else getting hurt.

As always, he had his own knife, strapped flat across his back between the two layered shirts he was wearing. Kenny might think he was unarmed, but he doubted that. His uncle wasn’t that naive. Neither of them were ever unarmed. Wanting to prevent this from becoming a knife fight, he was forced to reason with the unreasonable.

“She’s just an old woman,” he said.

Finally Kenny stared into his nephew’s eyes and got as close as he could to his face. His finger jabbed furiously, millimetres away from poking at Levi’s head.

“She hit me, and she’s a nosy bitch!” he replied furiously. “What you think you’re doing eh, helpin’ her like that?"

He backed off, tutting and scowling, waving the knife around as he gestured. “She was askin’ _questions_ Levi!"

"And that's a capital punishment crime?"

"Shut the _fuck_ up," Kenny spat, the sarcasm only making him more murderous. Anger finally boiling over, he kicked a nearby box, sending cellophane-wrapped parcels flying. “_Fuck!_ Look what you’ve _done!_ What if she goes snitchin’?!”

“There wouldn’t _be_ anything to snitch about if you didn’t try to fucking knife her, you fucking maniac!” Levi took a step back, raising his fists in case Kenny decided to try anything stupid. “Here! In front of everyone!”

Levi was trying to make it sound like a stupid decision, but deep down, he knew that Kenny would have gotten away with it. The warehouse staff were few and far between, spread thin in the huge interior, and they were all loyal. None of them had whispered a word about what really went on behind these walls. None of them were approaching now, even though their argument must have been within earshot. No, Kenny was not really his concern. He just couldn’t bear to witness a murder being committed right before his eyes, not for something as minor as a slap that he no doubt deserved.

“Well she shouldn’t come in here runnin’ her mouth!” Kenny yelled back at him. “Tellin’ me I’m killing her kid, like I’m forcin’ shit into her veins. People make their own choices, but instead of her girl she’s givin’ _me_ lip! And I don’t take none of that - especially on _my own_ turf!”

So that woman’s daughter was one of Kenny’s buyers. Levi could spare little thought for the story right now and didn’t bother to answer, which only antagonised his uncle more.

“Don’t you get it?!” he demanded in the face of Levi’s silence. As far as he could see, violence was best committed in front of witnesses. Let everyone see what happened when you crossed Kenny Ackerman - even old ladies, if they happened to be nosy outsiders. He was many things but let _nobody_ describe him as a weak man or a laughing stock. Levi might be fine with being soft, but he wasn’t.

“Let it go.” His nephew’s low reasoning tones were having the opposite of their intended effect. “You can’t possibly be afraid of her.”

Those words made Kenny’s fury rise once more and he took a sharp step towards Levi, lip curling in anger, though the knife stayed where it was. One of Levi’s own hands lowered, ready to draw his own blade from his back if needed.

“Afraid of some old witch? Fuck you, brat, you don’t get any of it,” Kenny ranted. “I’d be long dead if I acted limp like you. _Long. **Dead.**_ Men in my position gotta be tough. But you’ve never got it, and that’s why you’re a useless little shit and I’m in charge! Hear me?” He couldn’t resist shoving Levi very hard in the shoulder, even though he craved more. For a minute there, he had been geared up to kill someone, and now he was being robbed. It was like his knife begged to be used, and the temptation was running high.

Levi’s eyes narrowed, his fingers now grasping his knife. The click of the blade releasing was obvious. _You **should** be long dead,_ he thought, but it wasn’t worth saying aloud. “And suppose she’s got a husband who knows where she is,” he said, gesturing at the exit through which Kenny’s would-be victim had disappeared. “All this talk about not being weak… how about not being thick as shit?”

His words barely registered, but the sound of his dagger went some way to bring Kenny back down from the edge. His nephew had the advantage of age and, truthfully, skill. Kenny tended to rely upon surprise, pure rage or his victims being weaker than him. If there was one thing he had taught Levi over the years it was how to survive and how to fight. More the pity right now… if he picked a fight here, he would end up worse for wear. He’d do his fair share of damage, and Levi was never going to kill him, but he wasn’t about to sign up for that world of pain.

“Bah,” he scoffed, thin fingers still clenched around the hilt of his knife. “This ain’t worth a fight over, but if she had a husband I’d do him in too, or just lie. Like the pigs’d do anything anyway. Why do you always forget that murder’s an option?” He laughed and shook his head.

Levi gave him a cold look as he clicked his knife back into place.

“Because it’s not.”


	29. Prime Witness (21st August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi and Erwin discuss the murders of Antoine Lang, Faye Scadden and Adrian Smith.

Erwin stopped to take pause.

Levi Ackerman was sitting in his living room.

This was it. This was the moment he had been working towards for all of his adult life; finding out just what Kenny had done, who he had killed, and closing in on the chance to take him down for it. He owed Levi more than he could ever bring himself to say. He would give anything for the chance to put his father’s memory to rest after all these years.

He stepped into his home office and took a stack of files from the shelf, bringing them back to the table. They were neat, comprehensive and uniformly labelled but the edges were scuffed, as if they were taken down and perused rather frequently. He sat opposite Levi again, mirroring their earlier position in the interrogation room, except the files on the desk were much more numerous, and the unfortunate victims were long dead.

"I have a lot to ask of you," he began. "These are the files I have been keeping on Kenny, and the numerous unsolved murders or missing people I have connected to him. Please look."

Levi sifted through the folders until he saw the very two names that he particularly wanted to avoid. His breath stopped when they surfaced, in Erwin's neat black capitals.

** _LANG, Antoine_ **  
** _SCADDEN, Faye_ **

His heart sank, and he moved another file on top of them, obscuring the names from his view. Instead his fingers flicked through the much larger miscellaneous folder. There were newspaper cuttings, lists of names and suspicious details. When it came to the potential victims, a few names were unfamiliar, but others were well known to him. Some he knew Kenny had ordered, and others he had always suspected. Some were people he had met, and it shocked him to see their names here. Acquaintances of the gang were always coming and going, running from their pasts, ditching bail, getting taken in by their families or trying to make a fresh start... but he didn't realise some of them were dead.

"Where do I begin," he asked, his voice tired. "I know about most of these people."

"You do?" Erwin’s heart leaped with excitement that he tried unsuccessfully to hide. "Which ones?" His pen was poised at the ready to add notes.

Levi was realising that this was just another interrogation in a more homely location. He nudged his empty cup at Erwin. "Tea first. Then talking."

He browsed through the files but waited for the man to return before starting, letting him settle with his notebook again. He spread out the individual files so he could see the names and dates of death. From the system, it seemed each folder was about a death that Erwin suspected could be attributed to Kenny. The Miscellaneous folder was full of notes about Kenny’s people, his business, his locations, and his dealings.

"Antoine Lang, Faye Scadden, Isaac Robson and Carl Homewood. I know he killed them all himself. Findlay Mantel… him too. And this one, Barney Marrison.” Erwin quickly sifted the files into order, pencilling tiny notes on the front. He'd bet his best socks that Kenny had been involved in every single one of these cases even if he hadn't personally committed the crime.

"Eddie Barr was one of his handymen. Disappeared recently. They fought a lot. Wouldn't be surprised if he did that himself. And her, Sherrie Yates… I always suspected." It had been strenuously denied by Kenny, but Levi knew his uncle's handiwork.

The next file was a surprise to him. “Heard plenty about Dimo Reeves… thought he was still around.” Levi’s voice was solemn, tinged with regret, only just learning of the man’s demise. Levi was sure he had been one of Kenny’s close associates. That seemed to be a dangerous occupation.

He looked at the spines of the folder again. "And I met Hooper McKay. Mattias Friel sounds familiar. So does Robin Bridson." Examining the rest of the list, he shook his head, wondering if he might recognise photographs better than names. Lots of Kenny's hookers, friends and buyers came and went, but he didn't assume they were being killed off.

"These ones I don't know... Maggie Arlert, Franz Arlert, Jay Singfield, Stella Rabia, Suhana Sita, Rod Reiss, Alma Reiss, Adrian Smith."

When Levi finished his list, Erwin's mouth set into a hard line. His hand stopped moving.

"I suppose you wouldn't know the Arlerts," he said. "Or Adrian Smith. They were never part of Kenny’s circle." He made a few more notes as an excuse to keep his gaze lowered. "Good to have it confirmed though." 

Some of Erwin's files were more comprehensive than others. Certain files were so sparse that he would never stand a chance of building a case. He placed everyone Levi didn’t know to one side, but couldn’t bring himself to discard the Arlert or Smith files just yet, torn between sentimentality and practicality. It seemed unlikely he would ever be able to pin their killer, and yet he so much wanted to do so, for his sake and for Armin’s.

“We’ll go through in order,” he said. Levi visibly cringed at the choice, so Erwin pressed on as if he hadn’t noticed. “Tell me about Antoine Lang?”

The change in Levi’s manner seemed almost tangible, as if it was some physical state that had come over him. Erwin watched as he seemed to travel back in his mind to some time and place he had forgotten - or tried to forget, perhaps.

"He was an... associate of Kenny's. Up to his elbows in coke. Always selling and dealing. They got drunk together. One night it led to a fight, and Kenny..." He tried to recall the real details and separate them from the cover story that he had learned by heart. Did he really get hit by the lamp or was that just their version of events?

"Kenny hit him with something. I think it was the lamp. That's why..."

He flicked through the file, finding the death certificate. Blunt force trauma, accidental death. "Yeah. It looked like an accident--"

His voice dropped off mid-sentence as he noticed that a glossy, dark photograph was hiding behind the death certificate. His eyes tracked off to the page behind and his fingers swept the other documents out of the way. He recognised the living room very well. Every detail cried out to him. The hideously patterned carpet with its telltale stains. The chipped counters. The plug socket hanging off the wall. The skeletal crack in the window. The heavy woollen curtains that never seemed to be open. It was as if he could smell the stale smoke from the yellowing walls, even now. While he couldn't look away, he unconsciously reached out to take his cup of tea, something to ground him and console him.

"17th March, 1998," he murmured. The date was etched in his memory. Every nightmare for weeks had been set in a police station, starting with _where were you on the morning of 17th March?_ At seventeen, he thought he was going to be serving a life sentence.

“Yes,” Erwin said softly, nodding once. “March 98. The report said that he tripped over the carpet and cracked his head against the lamp, but...” He paused to put two photographs of the crime scene side by side for examination, one normal and another marked up in red. “I realised something is off. There’s no outlet on this side of the room. Why would a lamp be placed next to no socket?”

Levi froze. Erwin was showing him the same scene, but now it looked totally different. He was seeing it from a new perspective. It hadn’t occurred to him to check where the plug sockets were.

“This socket on the other side of the room was damaged, but it is several metres away from where the body and lamp were found. They claimed he was drunk and high but no toxicology report was done. Whoever signed off on this investigation did some sloppy police work, and that was enough to make me suspicious.”

Levi was realising now that he could have framed anything as the murder weapon, but it hadn’t occurred to him in that state to pick anything other than the lamp itself.

The look on his witness’ face made Erwin feel confident in his assessment. “I see I was right. Kenny ripped the lamp out of the socket to attack him?” 

“Rookie mistake. I _was_ a rookie though.” Levi covered his forehead with a hand, looking worn down. “Kenny brained the guy during that drunken argument, and then he called me.” Levi hadn’t been there to see the lamp get ripped out of the wall, and hadn’t noticed the hanging plug socket. He thought his story had been convincing, but it seemed that he hadn’t tied up all the loose ends well enough for everyone.

But the level of Levi’s involvement was a surprise to Erwin, and he fell uncharacteristically silent for just a minute. He wondered how many other cases Levi had been involved in, whether he had disposed of all the bodies named in these files. He glanced over the checkerboard of paper spread out across the table, seeing all of the dead that had been consigned to unhappy fates, their legacy now a puzzle for Erwin to solve.

“Why did you agree to help him?” he asked at last. His tone was without accusation for he was merely curious. “You must have been afraid.”

“He flipped. I thought it was a one off. And we’d all go down for the drugs if Kenny got investigated.” If Levi had any idea back then of the number of bodies his uncle would put in the morgue, he would never have helped.

“Lang was already dead when I got the call. So I…” With no small amount of shame, he prodded the photo, mumbling. “Scrunched up that carpet. Moved the lamp and hit his head on it. Flipped that table. Didn’t think about the sockets.”

Looking back up, he searched Erwin’s eyes for any sign of judgment or a loss of respect. But to the officer, it wasn’t an unreasonable point of view, especially for a teenager swept up in his guardian’s crimes. The current case even proved that Levi’s fear was not unfounded; Kenny Ackerman saw no problem throwing others under the bus to save himself, or to take them down with him. Although Erwin had sympathy for the situation, he still wrote down his words in blunt terms, adding Levi’s culpability to the file.

“I know you must have been young when this happened,” he said, and hoped that would be enough to show Levi that he was not here to be judgmental.

“That was the first. Thought it would be the only. But four months later…” Gravely, Levi pulled the file on Faye Scadden, laying it on top of the rest. Erwin had found her name in the system as a known streetwalker and thief, who was reported missing and never found.

“You helped clean up here as well?” he guessed.

Levi nodded. “Yeah. Second and last time.” Folding up the file for Antoine Lang, he put it to one side, instead looking through the details that Erwin had collected on Faye Scadden.

“I never liked her,” he said softly, looking at the mugshots and recalling her loud, cackling voice, the way she had always clung to someone’s arm, the glee with which she described her litany of violent robberies on innocent people. Really, it was Kenny’s own fault that he hadn’t seen it coming. Thought it was funny until it happened to him.

“One night, Kenny showed up at Winterford when I was there.” He recalled how angry he had been, having finally gotten to sleep on a difficult night, only to hear that wretched cackle and Kenny’s drunken voice. Winterford was closer to the bar they’d visited, and apparently getting a taxi was too much to ask. “Whatever happened… happened. Then at stupid o’clock in the morning, the door clicked.”

Again he wished he had known back then what he knew now. “It was her. Sneaking out with all his cash, cards and coke. But Kenny sleeps light unless he’s totally fucked, and…” He took a sip of his tea, thinking how best to detail the frenzied events of that night. “I didn’t see it all unfold. I heard him yell, then her, and he killed her right after that. Cut her throat. It was messy.”

It was hard not to cringe as he thought of the scene. There was too much to describe. It was the stupidest thing Kenny had ever done, to kill his own whore in his own house with such a gruesome method, and to someone less hardened than Erwin, the idea of this scene might have been too much to bear. As it was, the officer pulled the slightest of grimaces but no more than that. Since his father’s death, he considered himself unshockable. Something about walking in to find him cold, dead, surrounded by splatters of blood, in his own chair, made everything else seem ordinary and tame.

“There was a lot of blood then?” he asked, thinking aloud. Levi scoffed. It didn’t need an answer.

Scadden’s file had been almost empty until now, just another missing person, not even a body. Now there was potential. Erwin wrote on the notes; _‘Blood soaked into the carpets and floors at Winterford house?’._ He looked up at Levi. 

“The carpets have been replaced since then?”

“_Fuck_ yes.” Levi’s eyes were wide as he nodded. “If anyone had been to the house in the next few days…” He shook his head. The stains had spread, and getting rid of carpets the day after a late night argument was incredibly suspicious. Kenny was really playing with fire that time, killing a woman with whom he’d been seen leaving the bar. If the neighbours had called the police on hearing her screams, he would have been out of luck. He’d yelled at Kenny for his stupidity at the time, but Kenny had yelled straight back, waving his knife around, painting tiny blood flecks over both of them. Another suspicious circumstance Levi found himself in. Half the reason he agreed to help again was the fear of what could happen if he was found here. Levi would have been found outside his own room, in his pyjamas, covered in a woman’s blood, standing over her corpse. ‘Incriminating’ didn’t cover it.

“The carpets were ripped up and replaced that week.” It was over twenty years ago, and there were no physical reminders, but he still solemnly tiptoed his way across that part of the corridor. It felt like walking over someone’s grave. “And then I told Kenny that there wouldn’t be a third time. We… hid the body. I told him to leave her in Drizzle Ditch.”

Erwin frowned quizzically before noting the name. “Drizzle Ditch… where is that?”

“Driscoll Drive.” Levi almost forgot it had a real name. “It’s one of those overgrown valleys near the old factory lines. People dump shit there all the time. Whole fucking sofas and all kinds of garbage.” The site had been his own idea, and he hated that too. She was a person, however annoying, left to rot on a trash heap at his suggestion. Would Kenny even be out on the streets if Levi hadn’t kept him there twice? Someone might still be breathing today if not for him.

“And could you take me to the burial site?” Part of Erwin wanted to go right now, imagining finding some skeleton and solving a case many years old, but Levi shook his head, subtly grimacing. “I didn’t go with them. Duran and Kenny took it. Took her. But I suggested Drizzle Ditch and that’s what they said they did. Unless they lied, she’ll be there.”

“Good... good.” Erwin spoke without thinking as he wrote more notes, but upon realising what he had said, he looked up at Levi apologetically. “I mean, good that this account will help us now. I’m sure it was unpleasant for you to live through.” Truthfully he was still trying to contain his enthusiasm. It was hard not to look excited about getting so many answers to so many mysteries.

“How did you get the body out?” he asked, imagining all kinds of possible scenarios. Bodies transported by car were usually traceable by DNA, but it was unlikely in this case after so long. Kenny might not even have the same car.

“Kenny wanted to roll her in the carpet after we tore it up.” Levi rolled his eyes as he recalled the conversations about getting Scadden’s body out. Carrying large, bloody carpets wrapped around suspicious lumps was a surefire track to a life sentence.

“I took apart our washing machine and removed the drum. Left Kenny and Duran to get her into it.” Levi had recused himself from that. It was too much to watch, and Kenny needed to fix his own mess for once. It was annoying enough that he had help from his loyal follower; he didn’t need any extra. Levi pointedly ignored every snide remark Kenny made, every comment about his squeamishness. There was no point explaining to his uncle the difference between being squeamish and _not enjoying murder._

His wearied expression was nothing like Erwin’s, who was bright-eyed and rapt as if watching his favourite movie. "The washing machine is ingenious." He pencilled down the notes and the possible location, then picked up on Levi’s faint look of horror.

“I apologise if I sound matter of fact or heartless,” he thought to say to Levi now, aware he must have been very straight about his words as they discussed these cases. Cases which he was aware Levi had actually lived through. “I do understand that this can’t be easy for you. If you need a break at any point please say so.” He had to tread carefully, but he desperately hoped Levi wouldn’t take him up on that offer. He wanted to know so much more, and wanted to know it right now.

Levi hesitated, looking at Erwin’s expression, the way the detective was clinging to his every word. “No. I can tell you. This is just more talking than I’m used to.”

Secretly relieved, Erwin nodded.

"I appreciate every help you're giving me," he said. "Your stories help me to make sense of everything, and to come up with new ideas for how I can get something to stick to your uncle."

Working chronologically the next murder was one that Erwin knew very well. He picked up the file for his own father, heart fluttering in his chest.

"You said you don't know anything about this one?" he clarified, trying not to feel hopeful that his informant would remember something.

Levi accepted the file, finding by surprise that it was full of newspaper articles. At first it seemed like the most well-documented murder case ever, but then he realised that this Adrian Smith was the author.

"I don't recognise the name..." his voice trailed off as he fell into reading the columns, old dried-out clippings with a few highlighted sections. A grainy newspaper photo brought back old memories; a tattered van cordoned off with one tyre removed.

A memory connected like lightning, and he rearranged some of the papers. There were notes in red that he thought belonged to Erwin, some just words and one complete sentence: _why bring a broken van in from Bolivia?_ There were scans of passports and applications, all circled and marked up.

Kenny had managed to move a whole shipment of cocaine over the border in the form of an old van, but the driver had refused to enter the country with it. Instead he had shipped it as if he were selling the car to Kenny, and then Caven had gone to collect it. She was delayed, and by the time she got there, the van had been seized.

His uncle had never known how the authorities had guessed that the incoming vehicle was suspect. But now it was becoming clear; someone had sent letters to the authorities showing that all the applications and purchase orders were done under false names, and the identity documents were elaborate forgeries. That someone was Adrian Smith. The letters were here, sent to the Customs Offices, and the Border Controls, and anyone else who would listen. It proved that the van was not just making the short, inconspicuous journey from France, but had made a slow trail piece by piece all the way from South America, each time under a new name. Adrian had photos of the car, asking why anyone would move a battered van so far across the globe when scrap metal could be found anywhere. Records showed the van hadn’t been serviced or passed any tests in a long time. It was just a shell, outer packaging for something.

When the authorities stripped the van down, they found illicit material in between every bolt, stuffed into the seats, and hidden under fake flooring. Kenny must have been warned before Caven got there, so nobody claimed the car. The fake names were good enough that nobody went down for it, but the gear they lost was worth thousands.

Levi was putting two and two together. His finger traced the red circles. It wasn't Erwin's writing, it was the victim's.

Erwin's heart was thudding in his chest as Levi read over the information contained in his Dad’s articles. He had thought that after all this time it would be easier, but it still felt raw, and for a moment he was back there in that room, crying over his father as they zipped him into a body bag.

He looked down at his hands as he tried to pull himself back to the moment. It was Levi's words that did it, though they sounded echoing, as if he were far away.

"Adrian Smith figured this out, didn't he?"

"Yes," Erwin replied eventually. "He did. More than that - he turned them in. And paid the price for it. I don't know if Kenny himself did it, or if he ordered it, but I am sure it was them. You can see he was obsessed with catching them. He didn't write a single article or letter about anything else for months."

"How did he die?" Levi was sure that would give away whether it was Kenny or not, but as soon as he asked it, Erwin's expression changed. "Never mind," he said quickly, instinctively. Something told him that asking was a mistake.

Instead he read the death certificate. Gunshot. His mind went straight to Djel Sannes, Kenny's most reliable and efficient contract killer. After that, he skim-read another article with one highlighted sentence: _Around here, it's an open secret that this street is packed to the rafters with drug dealers._ It was the street on which Kenny's most recent warehouse had opened.

"Kenny did complain about a journalist poking around," Levi said slowly, dragging the memory of a conversation he had filed under 'useless complaining'. He had tuned out all of the _who does he think he is_ and _I'll show him_ and _if he knows what's good for him_... It had never crossed his mind that Kenny would assassinate a journalist. His victims had all been degenerates, isolated, vulnerable. And crimes of passion, not smart moves. The more he thought about it, the more he knew there was no chance Kenny would have taken this risk on himself.

Adrian Smith's articles stopped just short of pointing the finger, but he did ask some incisive questions about these warehouses, and had tracked down lots of the buying and selling to this particular locale. _‘Are we expected to believe that kilograms of cocaine cross at Dover and simply drift north to distribute themselves without a sophisticated organisational system?’_ the man wrote.

“He was practically on Kenny's doorstep,” Levi murmured.

"And I believe that before he died, he was trying to get a name," said Erwin. "Kenny's name. Kenny's photograph. He wanted to know who the ring leader was and take him down. Unfortunately, he.." Erwin trailed off, and looked down at the file and turned to the photograph of his father's body, a single bullet hole in the back of his head, clean but brutal. He probably didn't even see it coming. That was the only comfort that Erwin had. He liked to imagine that his dad had been sleeping, napping in his chair after a long day, and the killer had snuck in and shot him just like that.

"Well," he continued. "You see what happened." He placed the picture back down, very carefully, as if it were some fragile treasure, the only photograph in the world.

"He wouldn't have done it himself. But I'll bet I know who did," Levi said, voice resolute, and Erwin almost dropped his pen, whipping his head up to look at him.

"Who?"

"His name is Djel Sannes. D - J - E - L." He spelled it out because it was strange, but then realised that Erwin probably knew it from his research, even if the extent of his crimes wasn't clear.

"Ex-military,” he continued. “Managed to get hold of a sniper rifle." Levi drew the crime scene photo closer, trying to tell if it had been a long range shot or just a handgun. It was impossible to tell, but he knew that Sannes avoided breaking in whenever he could. "I know Kenny instructed him to take out some of the others." He gestured to the remaining files, yet to be examined. "This looks like his work."

Levi had never heard Adrian Smith's name, but he saw the precision of his notes, the excellent conclusions he was making, and knew why Kenny needed him out of the picture. If he had been alive, he and Erwin would have made one hell of a team, with their organised files and dedication to the cause.

He nearly said that aloud, but then his suspicions began. He shuffled through the papers, getting the feeling that he was missing something. Erwin somehow had a lot of Adrian's personal notes, his own handwritten research. The name was the same, common as it was. Levi scrambled through them, but the most he could find was a printout list of the man's articles with a small smiling passport-size photograph. He looked between that and Erwin, hoping he was mistaken.

The officer was eyeing up the next file when he saw the expression on Levi's face change and the way his eyes darted between the photograph of his father and himself. He knew what the man was about to say before the words had come out of his mouth but it still made his nerves jolt and his hand clench.

"This is your... dad?"

This was Erwin’s guarded secret suddenly laid bare. He had kept it to himself so he could work Kenny’s linked cases without being accused of bias, even though he was sure the same man had ordered Adrian’s assassination.

It was with some trepidation that he nodded.

"Yes. Well deduced," he said in a soft voice, almost a whisper. "Adrian Smith was my dad. I was just out of university when I came home to find him dead." He let Levi fill in the gaps himself about Erwin's motivations now.

It was as if there was no oxygen in the air Levi was breathing. He put his cup down, feeling strangely guilty about it. His family was the reason this man's father was dead, and now he was borrowing his clothes and accepting cups of tea and staying in his house. It was wrong.

"That's... too bad..." he said slowly. It wasn't how he wanted to phrase it. He wanted to grab Erwin and shake him, demand the answer to the only question left. _What can I ever do to make up for this?_ He'd only just been thinking that someone somewhere would still be breathing if he hadn't gotten rid of Faye Scadden's blood-soaked corpse. It turned out that someone was Adrian Smith.

There was no changing his own past failures. He had a sinking feeling that this was going to be his life now. Slowly discovering how many more horrors Kenny had been weaving, unchecked by his nephew. Regret upon regret upon regret.


	30. Third Degree (21st August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi and Erwin discuss Kenny's second spate of murders, including Armin's parents.

There was a painful silence. "You can't want me staying here," Levi said eventually.

It was far from the response that Erwin was expecting. He let silence fall between them, seeing his own shocked expression in the dark mirror of Levi's eyes. His mind worked quickly to guess why Levi would say such a thing, and then he wondered if he should exploit this guilt. It was uncomfortable, especially as Erwin did not _actually_ hold Levi responsible for his uncle’s actions, but it was a motivator. It would keep Levi on his side. He could always find a way to make it up to him later.

"I want you to stay here," he offered finally. "If you feel guilty or responsible then consider this as your repentance. Afterwards you can consider your conscience clear."

Levi's heart sank. Erwin was not being cruel or vengeful, but he could only imagine how he came across. Probably like Kenny. Like someone who treated human life with such a cavalier attitude. He wanted to tell the officer that's not how he was, but it would be unconvincing after he had just described the disposal of two bodies. The disappointment was written clear on his face and he distracted himself by returning to their work.

"If the bullet came from a sniper rifle or through the window, it was definitely Sannes." Quickly moving on, he picked up the next file.

Erwin set aside the folder with his father’s name on it, a little buzz of hope in his heart that there was an end in sight, a chance to put his memory to rest. For some small measure of recompense he decided to make Levi another cup of tea. As he leaned on the kitchen counter waiting for the hot water, he watched his newfound accomplice in the lounge, separated only by an open archway between the rooms. The younger Ackerman was a bit of an enigma, entrenched in the dirty world of crime, raised by the very spider at the centre of the web, and yet Erwin had no doubts about bringing him here. He even believed that he was getting an accurate version of these cases from him. Levi was not reluctant to admit what happened even when the truth incriminated him.

When the blond returned, he held out the mug like a peace offering, and Levi could see sincerity in his expression as he spoke.

"I hope you will stay here for the duration of the investigations. I think you will find it comfortable, and I am completely invested in your safety."

With a suspicious glance, Levi accepted the cup then returned to his reading. He was slow at picking through the complex forms and needed the headstart.

This fourth folder was the next death he knew about after Scadden. He had hoped that he had discouraged Kenny, after refusing to get rid of the body and warning that he would never help again. He thought he had succeeded, and four years had gone by without his notice. Today was the first he had known that Adrian Smith had been buried in that supposedly peaceful time.

"Findlay Mantel,” he read. “Big guy, worked security detail at the warehouse. I've no idea what happened to him, but Kenny arranged it." He had only picked that up from gossip conversations at work, the knowing smiles and sniggers when he was said to have 'quit'. _Findlay won't be joining us today. Findlay's gone 'travelling'. Watch your mouth or you'll be working with Findlay._

The death certificate revealed that he had been shot. "This was possibly Sannes too. Doubt it was Kenny. He likes blades better."

Erwin took a note of Levi’s observation. Mantel’s body had been found some years later, successfully identified but with little evidence to go on after the ravages of time had set in. With his former links to drugs and gangs and a very recent charge of intent to supply, Erwin could well see how it had been left unsolved by his less motivated colleagues. Mantel had no family to fight for him; Armin had uncovered that by doing some digging of his own.

What else do you know about him?" Erwin asked. "I like to find living relatives if I can. It makes the police work harder if there is someone out there who will fight for justice, but the closest I got for him were cousins."

"He never mentioned any family, but it's not like we talked much," Levi answered with a shrug. "There was plenty of talk at the factory tying it to Kenny, but I have no evidence." He glanced at his cup of tea with no small amount of guilt and picked up the fifth file.

"Hooper McKay. Knew him too." It was hard to forget the guy, tall and skinny and covered from head to toe in tattoos. His face was drawn, skeletally thin. Nobody had to ask his drug of choice; one look told you it was all of them.

Levi flipped the first page and found a host of mugshots. In each one, he looked closer and closer to death, with more ink appearing and more teeth disappearing. Erwin's handwriting proclaimed his story; drunk and disorderly, possession, assault, possession again, intent to supply, ABH, drunk driving and another ABH. A sad life, ended sadly.

"I knew he was dead. Might not have been Kenny though. He was always shooting up the kind of shit that could kill you first try." The table said ‘pulmonary edema’ under cause of death, but Levi didn’t even recognise the words and didn’t dare ask. "He was the world's slowest suicide. Practically a walking corpse."

Erwin thought this was no exaggeration. The man’s mugshots were depressing, almost haunting. There were few officers on the force who would question the ruling of overdose after seeing this man’s history.

“I believe even if Kenny did have a hand in this one we would never be able to prove it,” Erwin said regretfully, though he couldn’t help adding; “What a colourful bunch of people you grew up around. Bearing this in mind I am impressed at how you’ve turned out.”

Levi suspected Erwin was being sarcastic and fixed him with a vicious stare, only softening it when he realised the cop meant what he said. McKay’s file was set aside. The pile was going down and so far they had few hopeful leads. Perhaps it would get better the closer they got to the present day, and Erwin found it helpful to know Kenny’s patterns, but he doubted whether he could charge the man with even half of these murders.

“Tell me about Isaac Robson. What do you know about him?”

“Robson... Yeah. Big personality. He was always fighting with Kenny. One time he threatened Kenny. Said he’d go to the police if he didn’t get a bigger cut.” Levi saw the look on Erwin’s face, and shook his head dismissively, raising a hand. “Lots of guys do that. Kenny doesn’t mind. He thinks it’s funny.” Levi used to roll his eyes every time his uncle gave that speech about appreciating someone with the guts to blackmail him.

“But Robson did it in front of other people. Duran, Traute, Sannes, Yates, Uri, some of the hookers.” He closed his eyes for a second. It was a stupid decision. “And so Kenny shot him between the eyes in front of everyone. To prove a point. Said he was belittling him.”

He opened the file. There was practically nothing but a missing person’s report. No death certificate, no crime scene photograph. “I wasn’t there. But they carried the body out.”

“He sounds like he had more brash attitude than sense,” Erwin said, rolling his eyes in a superior way. “I can almost picture it though, this sharp-dressed man squaring off with your uncle.” He looked at the victim’s picture with a smile; Robson was all sharp cheekbones, small piercing eyes, short slick hair and a telling scar on his forehead. “Tell me when and where this happened? I have very little for him, as you can see. Until just now I had him down as a missing person.”

“There’s a warehouse on Cromwell Grove.” He was about to describe further until he realised that the officer must already be keeping tabs on all of Kenny’s properties.

Erwin nodded. He did know the warehouse in question, but unfortunately, it was now rented by a legitimate business selling some kind of plasticware. After this time he didn’t expect it to turn up any evidence, certainly not with enough probable cause to rip up their building and disrupt them. Besides, it seemed unlikely that Kenny would bury the body on site when he could choose any location. He had never yet been stupid enough to bury his victims in his own front yard, and he seemed unlikely to start.

“And do you know when that happened?"

Levi was adding up the dates in his head, trying to count backwards. Kenny gave up that warehouse in mid 2006 and they still owned Randolph Street back then, so… “Summer 2005?” he put forward hesitantly.

It was a long time since he had thought about Isaac Robson but he could picture the whole sorry scene. He had been working like normal while Kenny and his loyals were in some meeting, then the commotion had started. Sherrie Yates came running out to throw up in a bin as the others followed her, carrying his body on their shoulders, Kenny morosely following like some parody of a funeral. Even when his nephew marched over with accusing eyes and sharp words, he had given him nothing but yet another “don’t you fucking start, brat”. The disgusted look he gave Sherrie was burned in Levi’s memory, and his uncle had disappeared for a whole six weeks after that.

“Sherrie took that hard,” Levi murmured. “I should have known she would be next.”

“Sherrie Yates? The next victim?” Erwin opened her file as he mused aloud. “I know she was a part of Kenny’s gang, I don’t know much else at all. She’s listed as a missing person.”

Levi looked at his tea, cooling beside him. Much as he wanted it, he still felt too guilty accepting it. Begrudgingly, he looked up to Erwin again and continued.

“Yeah… she was there when Kenny brained Robson, and she was spooked.” The woman had turned white as a sheet and practically fainted every time Kenny had so much as looked at her after that. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he had someone get rid of her. But I never saw a body or anything. Just quietly disappeared. But we all knew. And Kenny was out of town laying low when it happened, so it wasn’t him.”

Erwin was trying very hard not to feel disheartened, but this sounded like another dead end. “Thank you Levi,” he said with a small smile. “You are being very helpful. Please drink your tea before it goes cold.”

Levi opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it. Instead he did as asked and drank some of the tea he had been denying himself.

“In fact I’ll order us something to eat so we can continue. Chinese food is good by you?” 

Levi shrugged. “But I don’t have much cash. And I’m unemployed because my boss framed me for murder.”

Erwin chuckled at that statement and threw his witness an incredulous look. After making Levi discuss murders, drugs and prostitution all night, it seemed so trivial to consider who would pay for a takeout meal.

“Oh please! I’m not expecting you to pay. You are my guest, not to mention the main witness in a murder case I have been trying to build for years. Choose whatever you like to eat.” 

He handed him his phone, ready with a menu, and began sorting through the files once more. Levi took it with some uncertainty, surprised that the cop would trust him with his phone for even a second. It felt unfair to let Erwin treat him, but also uncivil to refuse.

He scrolled, but it took him so long to read the menu with all its long and complicated names, most of which were new to him. It made him anxious. Any minute now, Erwin was going to ask why he was taking so long. He quickly clicked one item and hastily thrust the phone back at Erwin. It wasn’t as if he had much appetite after a day like this anyway. 

He could see that the next files on Erwin’s list were linked. Arlert and Arlert. “Relatives or married?” he guessed aloud, before opening it to find that they were a couple who had both died in a car accident. He didn’t get any further than that before the officer chimed in again.

“Er, Levi,” Erwin interrupted. “You’ve forgotten to add anything, you just added plain rice. What did you want to go with it?” He sat, thumbs poised at the ready to complete the order.

“I like rice,” Levi said in a monotone, eyes still on the files. When Erwin continued to stare at him, he made a sound of frustration, taking back the phone and adding something else. He shoved the phone grumpily back at Erwin with a withering glare. It was as if he didn’t understand Levi at all.

“Much better,” Erwin said with approval in his tone, and placed the order. “You cannot just have rice Levi.”

His witness’ voice was impatient, eyes narrowed in a subtle anger. “Are you going to tell me why traffic accidents are Kenny’s fault or not?”

Erwin couldn’t tell what he had done to irritate Levi, but answered anyway. “No, I don’t think that it was unrelated,” he explained, and pulled towards him the photographs he had taken of the crash. “I had been an officer for a few years by this time, and so I was able to get a huge amount of information. Including photographs.” He showed Levi the burst tyres, the marks around the neck of Franz Arlert.

“Strange, don’t you think? How often do two people die in a crash like this, and how often do they get such odd marks around their necks?”

It was a difficult question for Levi. There were certainly dark purplish bruises around the neck of the man, strapped into his car by his seatbelt, but he might have dismissed it if Erwin hadn’t theorised otherwise. On the other hand, the notes did raise suspicions. He didn’t drive himself, but two burst tyres sounded unlikely.

“So you worked this case?” he asked.

Erwin sat back a little, old frustrations coming to the surface. “Unfortunately not, because it never became one. It was judged an accident right from the start. I just dredged all this from the files...”

The location of the bodies looked familiar. “I don’t know who they are, but that’s not far from another of our warehouses,” Levi said quietly, a puzzled look on his face. “Now you’re resorting to arresting Kenny because an accident happened near him?”

Levi could not connect the dots between these deaths and his uncle. Kenny’s other victims were from the same side of the tracks as him. They were never upstanding, well-to-do citizens. That was half the reason he got away with it.

“They don’t seem the…” Levi’s voice trailed off as he finally figured out what the handwritten notes were saying. Erwin had pulled their finances and they were being paid by Kenny’s business. “How did you get all this? Was Kenny bribing them?”

“No, all above board!” Erwin said, feeling a little thrilled that he could tell Levi something new this time. “They were the legitimate owners of a warehouse, Kenny was renting it from them, that’s why the payments came in from his company. As for the records, I’m in touch with their relatives, and they gave me all the financial records that I requested.”

But if there had been a way to pin the Arlerts’ murder on Kenny, he or Armin would have found it by now. All he had was the one rent payment that Kenny had skipped, right after his landlords’ accident, an accident that he shouldn’t have known about. But alone that wasn’t enough.

“Unfortunately, being connected to Kenny like this isn’t enough to build a case. There isn’t any evidence of what really went on at that warehouse. I theorised that they saw something incriminating, but on paper, there is no bad blood between them. No letters or messages, just contracts and payments. And the money can’t be traced back to drugs. So, it seems we can’t pursue this one either.”

“I’ve never heard of them,” Levi confirmed, to Erwin’s disappointment. “But if they saw something suspicious, Kenny would get rid of them.” He looked at the photographs, much more personal than the ones in the other files. Instead of mugshots, they were family photos, a young married couple, an elderly father, a small child. Some were holiday snaps, wedding photos, birthday parties. It was draining, looking at their smiles and thinking that Kenny had ended all these people, for the sake of money and saving his own skin. Levi wished he’d done things very differently before now.

He looked at the dates again, looking crestfallen. “February 2007…” It had seemed like a normal year for once. Normal as it ever was. He was swiftly learning that much had happened behind the scenes, and just how much Kenny had hidden from him. Apparently he took Levi at his word that he would never help cover another death. But instead of quitting the risk, he had just turned to other more pliable and less moral helpers, and sworn them to secrecy. No-one had spilled a word of Kenny’s secrets to him. Levi was disappointed in himself for standing by, and ashamed of his naivete in thinking Kenny had slowed down.

“Please can we stop,” he said softly.

The change in Levi’s demeanor was obvious, and while Erwin was eager to continue he did not want to push if his star witness was distressed. He needed to be a kinder option than Kenny, so that Levi stayed on his side. Dismissing his concerns and mercilessly interrogating him was not the way to achieve that.

“Of course,” he replied gently. “Are you alright? Something about this case is bothering you?” His body language became more open as he tried to persuade him to speak, though he stopped short of putting his hand onto Levi’s arm, unsure if that was too familiar. 

Levi was disconcerted by the sudden sense of being pitied. “Just five minutes.”

He waited in silence to gather his thoughts, Erwin giving him his requested space. Eventually he continued. “Deaths are all bad. But the ones I knew about… they were pretty bad people. Some of these people aren’t. They’re normal. He killed a lot more than I guessed. Wish I’d known.”

Drawing the next file closer, he steeled his nerve.

“Let’s continue.”


	31. Eyewitness Testimony (21st August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi and Erwin discuss Kenny's third bout of murders, including Barney Marrison and Carl Homewood.

“Do you feel responsible for Kenny’s crimes?” Erwin queried, not willing to let the subject drop. “Because while you were a part of his world, no one is responsible for the actions of anyone else.”

He got no response, not even eye contact, so he pressed on. “If you’d known all this, how could you have acted differently?” He was genuinely curious. He had often asked himself the same thing; the more he had picked apart at these cases, the more his conscience demanded whether he could have done more to solve his father’s murder. Endless sleepless nights didn’t give him any ideas, but the thoughts plagued him nonetheless.

Levi weighed it up, looking darkly at the files as he mulled it over. He had no bright ideas on how he could have pulled out of the web without being sent down instead of Kenny. There were so many rumours about Kenny’s ties to the police force, and there was always the chance that he could pull some strings to get Levi convicted in his place.

“Kenny’s responsible. But I made the wrong judgment. I don’t _know_ what I should have done, but… not nothing.”

As he spoke, he opened the next file. Barney Marrison. This was a famous name to him, but he knew little about the details.

“This guy wasn’t part of the group. He had his own little setup, used to buy and sell on Kenny’s territory. And Kenny didn’t like it.” That was an understatement. 

“They met one time in person to negotiate. Kenny left the warehouse to meet him and no-one ever heard of Marrison again. Kenny told me he got arrested. It was a lie. He was missing.” Levi recalled walking into Kenny’s room, finding him asleep with some stranger, and slapping the newspaper around his face. Marrison’s cocky expression was staring out from a back page beneath the usual crime informant phone numbers. Levi punched him, got punched back, left Kenny’s whore to tend to him.

He yanked himself back into the present to face Erwin again. “Marrison was no saint, but he was no Kenny.”

For a few moments Erwin mulled over this new information, wondering how useful it would be. Marrison was listed as a missing person, and Erwin’s searches had only turned up a sister in London. She denied seeing her brother for at least five years, and said she had disowned him after he stole money from her children, his own two nieces.

“He _was_ arrested.” Erwin’s finger underlined the sections that Levi had misread. “5th August, but he wasn’t kept in. We found drugs on him after he got into a scrap with a neighbour, but it wasn’t enough to constitute supply.” Erwin flipped a page, revealing the newspaper cutting of Barney Marrison’s missing person listing, the same one that had sent a furious Levi to Kenny’s door a decade ago.

“We catalogued his belongings and he had a contact named ‘Ackerman’. Can I assume that was Kenny and not you?”

Levi was surprised to hear it, and wondered if this had been his uncle’s attempt to arrange a meeting with Marrison to discuss their terms. “It must be. I never spoke to him.”

Erwin pencilled in another note, trying to untangle this mystery. Marrison’s phone showed that he had placed a recent 32-second call to the contact ‘Ackerman’, which was enough to convince him that Kenny was implicated. Besides, Marrison’s record was littered with charges of selling amphetamines and benzodiazepines, and Kenny all but _owned_ every drug industry in this area. It was near impossible that the pair had never crossed paths.

“Do you think Kenny did it himself?" 

Levi gave him an apologetic look. It didn’t seem like he was proving very helpful. “He might have done it to prove a point, or he might have played safe and instructed someone." 

That was about all he could offer on this one. He was already reaching for the next file, trying to recall why the name Mattias Friel sounded familiar. When he saw the photo, it clicked into place. 

“I thought he went to rehab.” His voice was laced with sorrow. It was disheartening to see that the man wasn’t better off in some new life. Levi turned the page. At least this one had a body. It was getting frustrating, finding a number of ghosts showing up without any evidence, as if they had never existed. “Suicide…?” he said with a voice full of doubt. The certificate had concluded that the overdose was intentional. 

Levi froze as he moved it aside, finding a photo of a letter. It was strangely personal, signed Matty. He skimmed over it, unable to understand it all, but he spotted sections asking about Beth and Tom and describing life updates without any further context. Erwin had underlined a few phrases here and there; _Rehab was a godsend - clean for three months now - I’ll do it once the money is sorted._

It was enough to piece it together. He’d owed Kenny a fortune. That was why Levi recalled his name; Kenny had asked Levi on a few occasions to hunt down his debtor, but Levi had steadfastly rejected every time. Mattias Friel didn’t seem like such a bad guy, and Levi didn’t want the job. 

The cop’s rationale was clear; Erwin obviously thought he’d been killed rather than taking an overdose, because Mattias had been in rehab and said he was clean. He suspected he already knew the answer, because it was becoming clear that the police didn’t have resources to waste on junkies, but he languidly asked anyway. “Did they check his system?" 

Erwin shook his head as he flicked through the papers. 

"You're learning. No, they didn’t,” he said. “At least there’s no record. It was before I had enough authority, and before I met Dr Zoe. The officer in charge decided he’d just relapsed and binged himself to death. There was a lot of sloppy work around this time. Shadis - our old chief - was hard-pressed to make cuts in the budget. And since he didn’t care about dead drug addicts, he didn’t encourage the rest of us to care either. Given the state of the city, we see a lot of Mattias Friels...” 

He rested his elbows on the table and steepled his fingers, his face the very picture of concern as Levi listened carefully to his characterisation of the police force. Annoyingly, it sounded like Kenny had always been right. No wonder he knew he could get away with practically anything. 

Erwin kept holding Levi’s gaze, glinting eyes deeply serious. “Is there anything else important I should know about Friel’s death? Anyone who might be able to prove he owed Kenny money?” 

"Not really. If he keeps records, I’ve never found them.” Even if Kenny had paperwork proving Friel owed him something, they would be long gone. Levi never managed to pry deeply into his uncle’s affairs but he knew that Kenny would have been caught by now if he had been sloppy. “Any proof would be on Friel’s side. And that’s if he ever told his family what he was involved in.” 

Erwin was already moving onto the next file, so Levi tilted his head, reading the paperwork over the cop’s shoulder and putting the pieces together. Now he could place the name. “Fuck,” he whispered. 

Erwin glanced up urgently. “Go on,” he encouraged. “Tell me what you know about Bridson.” 

It took a long time for Levi to muster his voice. Erwin was patiently, insistently staring at him. “Kenny asked me to kill him,” he confessed quietly. 

"Huh,” Erwin huffed, leaning back, keeping the smile very firmly off his face; he wanted to grin very widely at this news but sensed it would be inappropriate. 

Levi recalled the stories Kenny had told him about the man, portraying him as a violent monster, and now he flicked through the file to see if it was true. There was indeed a lengthy prison record, showing muggings, burglaries, batteries and fines for incidents of drunkenness and vandalism. He turned to the death certificate but couldn’t read the words listed under cause of death, so he nonchalantly picked up something else instead. 

“How did he die?” he asked, casually as he could. 

Erwin read from the certificate without any hesitation. “Asphyxia by smothering." 

It drew a bewildered frown from Levi. “What…? Like… suffocation?” 

"My forensic team really pushed hard on this one,” he explained. “It was ruled as a heart attack until Dr Zoe stole the case and found out he was smothered. She really came through on that cause of death. Then it was mine to investigate… but circumstances intervened.” Erwin decided not to confess the extent of his difficulties in dealing with a suspected mole on the force, but his expression still darkened as he recalled numerous lost reports, conveniently placed computer ‘glitches’, and missing files. “Suffice to say it was a frustrating time.” 

Levi shook his head. “I told him not to take the risk.” He hadn’t been optimistic about Kenny listening to him, and it seemed clear now that his uncle just did as he threatened, and found someone else to do the deed. 

Then he reconsidered. Sannes was always his first choice assassin. He must have refused, or Kenny wouldn’t have asked Levi at all. Did that mean Kenny had to do his own dirty work for once? 

"I’ve no idea who did this." 

The optimism Erwin had felt before faded away instantly at those words. Like before, he kept the expression to himself. 

"No idea at all?” he pressed, but Levi shook his head again. This case was so familiar to Erwin, one he had always held out hope of solving. He clearly recalled the moment he had visited Hanji’s office, her excited expression, her calling out to him and almost slapping him in the face with the results. Even Shadis would have allowed this one to go ahead, until all the interference kicked in. The static had polluted the case. It took hours of manpower - expensive manpower - to untangle all the false communication, and then Shadis started to get impatient. 

That night, Erwin had snuck a copy of the file home and placed it into his spare room, on the shelf beside his Dad’s work, before sipping a glass of wine at his desk and going through everything he knew. And that had been five years ago, though it felt like mere months. From that precise moment, he knew he would not rest until he became Chief Superintendent. 

"You know Kenny wanted him dead, though,” he said slowly. “So that’s a start. You could testify to that.” 

“Oh, yeah,” Levi affirmed. “Either it was him, or he ordered it. Just never known Kenny to suffocate a guy.” If Levi were a gambling man, he would guess it was Kenny, for once holding in his instinct to bleed a man dry and instead being more subtle. But it was an intuition, nothing more. 

He skim-read the dates of the remaining files. The next chronologically was Stella Rabia. It was a fairly weighty file and he recognised her name as one of Kenny’s buyers, but her death was news to him. 

The death certificate showed she was stabbed. There had been a prosecution and someone had done time for it; one Cecil Triggs. Levi scrutinised the pages, wondering why Erwin had connected this murder to Kenny if someone else was convicted. 

A man named Cecil Triggs had confessed to the murder after several hours of questioning. Erwin’s notes were the only things that highlighted the weaknesses in an increasingly impatient hand. By the end, his pen had done more engraving than writing, scratching deep into the paper with erratic punctuation and underlining. _No fingerprints, no DNA. Can’t explain where knife has gone. No motive! ZERO prior interactions!_ The red scribbles continued, but it was beyond Levi's skill to decipher, the words long and complicated. 

"Ah… this one.” Erwin looked resigned. “The court heard ‘paranoid schizophrenic’ and assumed that Triggs didn’t need a motive. They assumed he had just killed some innocent stranger because of his illness.” He smiled, but there was not a hint of amusement in it. "Juries are scared of words like that." 

Levi understood as soon as Erwin read the words aloud. Paranoid schizophrenic. The transcript of the questioning was there. An officer identified by initials was asking Triggs why his mother insisted that she was his alibi, that he couldn’t have murdered the girl when she had been with him all night. The typewriter font provided a stuttering answer. 

**TRIGGS: **She, uh, well she, she’s my mum, she just, she’s trying to protect me--  
**ND: **Oh. So you’re telling me your mother lied to the police.  
**TRIGGS: **Well she might [unintelligible] …  
**ND: **Speak up for the tape, Mr. Triggs.  
**TRIGGS:** She’s probably confused. She’s old. She gets a bit confused. Look, I told you the truth. It was me. I made a bad mistake. I’m not in my-- I’m sick.  
**ND:** Oh yeah. That much is clear. 

Levi’s eyes darted across the pages, picking out key points. Erwin had been involved on the case, and he’d included his favourite doctor too. She had found Kenny’s DNA on the girl, and his fingerprints in her house, but his wasn’t the only one. There was a list of all DNA and all fingerprints found at her home, most of them found to be acquaintances of the deceased. There was no way to prove that Kenny was anything other than another person who knew her. At worst, they probably thought him a ‘client’. 

Levi did notice that among all those whose DNA had turned up at her flat, Cecil Triggs wasn’t there. Apparently the confession was so persuasive that his lack of forensics mattered little. 

“So Kenny paid him to take the fall, huh,” he said as he leafed through the pages. 

"Nile and I suspected so at the time,” Erwin said, nodding. “Triggs was inconsistent and so was the case. I remember Nile coming out of that interview; he threw himself down into his chair so hard I thought he’d tip himself over. I didn’t want to charge him, but technically, it didn’t fall under our station’s jurisdiction. Another division was handling it...” 

Erwin trailed off. He didn’t need to confess that Nile, friend though he might be, was the ambitious new chief in that neighbouring district, with no desire to bungle his first salacious murder investigation. He had already gone above and beyond by sharing so much information with Erwin. 

"The press were on their case, and the whole station thought we were dragging our heels. Obviously we were never able to prove that Kenny was involved beyond being one of Rabia’s friends, and we couldn’t dissuade Triggs from his insistence that he did it. Despite everything.” He waved his hand at the furious notes he had made on the case. 

“Did you know Rabia?” he asked. “Or anything about her death that I haven’t written down?” 

"She was around. No idea if she was on the game but she was a regular. Buying, I mean.” Levi flipped a page to find that Erwin had pulled up her police record. It seemed she had been caught with drugs plenty of times, though usually let off with a warning. 

“But I don’t know Cecil Triggs.” That in itself was suspicious. Levi knew almost all of Kenny’s friends, either from their raids on Winterford and Denham, or their work at the warehouses, or showing up to buy and sell. If this Triggs was really involved in the world of crime, and had been friends with Stella Rabia, Levi would at least know his name. It seemed Kenny had gone looking for a fall guy, and he had found one. 

The next file was Jay Singfield. Levi tapped it with a finger and shook his head. He’d never heard of the guy, and as he flicked through, it looked sparse. Just a missing person’s report; no body, no evidence. Erwin had done enough homework to tie the guy to Kenny’s gang, but otherwise, he was a lost cause. 

Then another name stole his attention, eyes tracking to the side before he hurriedly grabbed it. “This is one of Kenny’s.” He opened back the cover, reading **HOMEWOOD, Carl**. There it was; death by blood loss. Throat cut. No knife. Surfaces wiped. Crime scene wrecked. 

"He beat one of Kenny’s girls.” He remembered when she had knocked frantically at their door, only to find the younger Ackerman instead. If he remembered rightly, Homewood couldn’t handle his narcotics. Remembering was not easy. The girl had been drunk, frantic and shaken, so she had relayed the story in jumbled pieces as it was, and that was three years ago. Levi took a few minutes to recall the circumstances. He had expected Carl Homewood to pay a price, but not as high as this. “Kenny confessed to me that night.” 

Erwin’s heart started beating double-pace when he heard that. Levi’s testimony could pin Kenny down on several cases. The more he had, the less likely it was that the murderer would squirm free. Finding an alibi seemed no effort to him. Finding several? Now that might be a challenge, even for Ackerman. 

Silently, Levi wondered why Kenny had told him the truth, but he got the impression that his uncle considered himself the victim on this occasion. Homewood swung first. Levi could practically hear Kenny’s voice in his head; _what didja want me to do?!_ Levi hadn’t even been that angry. For once, his uncle really had been pushed. Except of course, he had gone way overboard, Kenny style. 

There was a crime scene photo, and some of the close-ups showed jagged shards of brown glass, as well as a long strip of carpet torn out next to the body. 

“He slashed Kenny’s face with a bottle,” Levi explained, tapping the photo. “Kenny took the top of the bottle with him because it was covered in his blood.” He set out the photo, pointing at the ripped carpet. “He told me he tore up strips of the floor where his blood got on it and threw them down a drain somewhere.” 

Erwin was stunned. The whole house was wrecked, apparently by the victim in his psychotic state. There were collapsed cabinets, smashed plates, broken bottles everywhere, spilled beer, scrapes along the door frames, even blood from where the victim had apparently punched walls… The torn up carpets were just added to the litany of destruction. He had never thought that one part of the damage had been done by Kenny himself, blending in with all of Carl’s wreckage. 

Levi turned the page to the murder stories, the sensational articles and the final conclusions. They were a bit too wordy for him to comprehend, but something stood out from the paperwork. “No arrests?” he read aloud, incredulous. Such a gruesome crime scene and there was allegedly no evidence to be found? 

Erwin groaned out loud at the memory of this case and rubbed his face with his hand, looking a mix of sheepish and frustrated. “Whenever I see a murder where the victim’s throat is cut, I investigate it with Kenny in mind,” he said. “And I use my own time to check out any links to him, however tenuous.” 

He leaned back on his sofa and Levi observed the difference in his appearance again. The officer was much more casual now he was at home, shoes off, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, practically lounging as he told the story. 

“I personally questioned a lot of people over this one. And I got my best officers to question more, including Kenny himself. I brought in anyone I could find, tried to get someone to tell me something - I got pretty desperate but no one had anything useful. There were fifty or sixty people at that party, including your uncle… and everyone’s story matched. The victim got out of control, started damaging the apartment, fighting people, grabbing a knife and threatening them…” 

The stories seemed so genuine, especially when the whole large group agreed on the details. Erwin had seen rehearsed lies among conspirators, and they were usually too convincing. Eyewitnesses were never 100% accurate, whereas cover stories were always too clean, rehearsed to perfection. But these party-goers were genuine in their interrogations. He was sure that they were telling the truth about the victim’s violent outburst, and that several had witnessed him beating up the homeowner. 

But then the story got strange. “Every attendee said they left and went home because of Homewood’s violent behaviour. But not one of them called the police, not even the tenant. Your uncle’s DNA was at the house _and_ on the victim, but so was that of fifty other people. Then I got rushed through the case, as usual, and the chief was quite irate at me about the costs and the police hours I had... _‘wasted.’_” Erwin used sarcastic air quotes as he recalled the conversation in Shadis’ office. _You know what I see in that house, Smith? Fifty eight bits of trash. So what if it just became fifty-seven? He’s off the streets!_

He grimaced, recalling the blazing argument they had on that day, witnessed by all their colleagues. Erwin had accused his boss of assigning no value to human life, and Shadis had yelled at him to stop using taxpayer money to seek justice for a thug who had beat a woman so severely. 

Pulling himself back into the present, the cop continued softly. “So no. No arrests. Not even close. My chief went out of his way to assign drug-related cases elsewhere, seemed to think I was soft on them.” He chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know the story behind this case, I can look into it again.” 

Erwin was hopeful. Fifty-eight people at the party. One was the victim; one was Kenny Ackerman. That left fifty-six witnesses, and fifty-six chances to make someone crack. Levi’s new testimony would add pressure. Someone, any _one_ of them had to confess that Kenny wasn’t at that party. 

“I met Homewood like… three or four times. But I remember the girl. I think her name was Maya or Myra or… May something.” Levi could vaguely picture her saying it as she dabbed the blood away from her temple with her sleeve. 

Erwin flipped to another page, underlining a section of the witness statement with a fingertip. Every account began the same, describing a party at Mayrah’s apartment. It jogged Levi’s memory. 

"Yeah, Mayrah. That’ll be her. The one Carl beat up. The party was at her place, but Kenny wasn’t there. She showed up alone and I had to call him.” 

So now Erwin knew why the stories had been so convincing. The party had probably happened exactly as they all said, with one exception; they had all added Kenny Ackerman. His DNA had been all over the house and the victim, but not because he was at the party. It got there when he came back to commit the crime later. Erwin’s hand sped quickly to write down Levi’s recollections. Mayrah would be easy to find. The only obstacle was whether she would be willing to break ranks with Kenny. If Erwin could get her and Levi to give one version of events, one that contradicted Kenny’s, then he was really making progress. 

“You’ve given me a real chance at chasing justice here.” Erwin smiled. “You’re a dream.” Briefly, he allowed his optimism to bubble through to the surface. To Levi, on the other hand, it was strangely out of place given the dark nature of their discussions. 

"Whatever you say, lunatic,” he mumbled. 


	32. Shaky Alliance (21st August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi and Erwin examine Kenny's final cases, including Dimo Reeves and the Reiss family, and then discuss his strange relationship with Uri.

Dimo Reeves was a familiar name, one that Levi hadn’t expected to see lying in Erwin’s graveyard of files. He always seemed like one of Kenny’s trusted circle. Erwin’s file painted him up as another previous offender, with arrests on the record for all sorts of tax issues, but nothing for violence. He’d clearly never done jail time, only paid fines. At the back, Levi found the death certificate.

Throat cut, blood loss. Then he turned another page; the details said the man worked for Kenny, at the same warehouse as Levi.

“He doesn’t work there,” Levi scoffed. “I do. And I’ve only met him a handful of times.”

“Kenny must have had him on the books as an employee to pay him for something else,” Erwin mused aloud. “Any idea what it might have been? Drugs? Violence?”

“Probably selling. He was in love with money, but not much of a fighter.”

Erwin recalled Levi naming Reeves as one of Kenny’s potential links in their interview earlier this morning. “You didn’t know he was dead, did you?”

The witness shook his head. “Haven’t seen him in a few years, but that’s not weird. And I thought he was too important for Kenny to kill.”

The crime scene photos revealed that Reeves had been found in an alleyway on a rainy night. It took a moment for Levi to notice the gruesome detail in the dim photo; both of Reeves’ hands were missing. The slight wrinkle of his eyes in disgust did not escape the chief’s notice.

“What do you make of that?” he pried gently, wanting Levi’s honest reactions before he provided any detail.

Levi shook his head. “I’ve never known Kenny to do anything like that.” It looked like the work of those insane trophy killers from a bad, shock value movie. “But the neck injury…”

“It’s Kenny’s MO,” Erwin interrupted. “I think our investigators were too focused on the missing hands. It is so macabre that it eclipsed the whole case.”

Levi still looked nonplussed. “I don’t know why Kenny would do that. I don’t know why _anyone_ would do that.”

Erwin sighed deeply, shifting on the sofa and letting his brain tick over this information yet again. “Dr Zoe determined that they were removed after death, so this wasn’t a matter of torture. But Reeves was involved in quite a few schemes - or rather, scams - so some theorised that this was to make a point about his grasping nature. They think he is a thief, so they cut off his hands.”

“Uh… huh.” Levi looked as skeptical as he sounded, which was not reassuring to Erwin.

“Do you think Kenny would do something like that if someone stole from him? Imagine, one of his inner circle, embezzling from his profits. Would he lose his temper? Seek to make an example of him?”

Levi was silent for some time, weighing it up. It was hard to predict his uncle’s actions or unscramble his motives; Kenny’s mind was as incomprehensible to Levi as his own was to Kenny.

“I don’t see it,” he confessed eventually. “It’s not like anything he ever did before.” His hand glazed over all the assembled files. “But I still think this was him. One of his associates, and a throat cut as well… And if anyone else did this, Kenny would have told me.”

Erwin thought that assessment made some sense, and pursued the line of questioning further. “So Kenny never told you that one of his employees, a close acquaintance, had been found dead?”

Levi shook his head. “Nope.” 

The pair shared a look, then Erwin jotted down a few ideas. He would put good odds on naming Ackerman as the murderer, even if he couldn’t explain why a serial killer had only started dismembering bodies after 15 previous kills.

“You got anything else?”

Erwin surveyed the file. “See for yourself. The only evidence tying him to Kenny was DNA, specifically from skin contact. We couldn’t even call Kenny in for questioning, because it wasn’t that suspicious to find DNA from his boss on him, especially on a day when he had apparently been at work.” 

He saw Levi eyeing up a long list of names in the file. “Those are the 77 people who had left trace DNA on the body of Dimo Reeves. If I had led a queue of witnesses that long into the station, Chief Shadis would have been cutting off _my_ hands.” He chuckled, even though Levi didn’t join in; his witness’ eyes were fixed on the name **Kenny Ackerman**, hidden in plain sight among 76 innocent people.

“Well… we will see what I can do.” Erwin had never shaken the feeling that Dimo Reeves could be a lifeline towards Kenny’s conviction, but he couldn’t connect the dots right now. He picked up the next file from the dwindling pile; Suhana Sita. He opened it and pulled out the death certificate.

“Overdose,” he read out. “Do you know anything about her?” He slid the file towards Levi, pointing out her various mugshots, all collected on times she was arrested for possession.

Levi could see the hope burning in his eyes, and felt guilty that he was about to disappoint him. “Don’t recognise her.” He saw the officer’s slight wince, the faint death of hope in his expression, and looked back at the folder as an excuse to break eye contact. Aside from the mugshots and death certificate, he found a few hospital reports that he couldn’t even begin to read.

More photos followed, but these were different. Levi was staggered when he looked upon the family portraits. In each one he saw six smiling faces, one of which was Suhana Sita, two older people, and three young boys. They were clustered together in a photo booth, then huddled together in the neon lighting outside some kind of concert hall at night, then at a sunny waterpark with the drips of their hair and their laughter all frozen in time.

“Levi?” Erwin broke the spell. “Do you remember her now?”

After gathering himself, Levi shook his head, instead pointing to the older woman in the photo. “I know _her._”

Erwin was bewildered. “Her mother? You know her mother?”

“I met her once. She fought with Kenny.” Levi could recall it like yesterday, but he figured it had to be a couple of years ago. 

“_Fought_ with Kenny?” Erwin’s voice rose incredulously. He would have to track her down as soon as possible. “How could that _possibly_ have ended?”

“I got involved,” Levi explained, still feeling half-dazed by his unfolding reality. “She slapped Kenny - he was going to…” 

He gave Erwin a knowing look. The cop could fill in the gaps.

Erwin had a whole list of questions. “Do you know why she was there?”

“Kenny said she blamed him for her daughter’s addiction. She slapped him across the face--”

“When?” Erwin interrupted urgently. His fingers twitched anxiously as he waited for Levi to work out his answer. “Suhana died on 2nd September, 2017--”

“Shh.”

Levi was frowning, silencing Erwin with a dismissive wave. Then finally he concluded, “August 2017. Like… 10th at the earliest. 23rd at the latest.”

“So she visited while her daughter was alive, and less than a month later, she is dead.” Erwin was glad it happened that way; he was stacking up lots of suspicious ‘coincidences’ around Kenny Ackerman.

But sorrow was written on Levi’s face. Not many of Kenny’s associates had a family who tried to get them out, but the Sitas had, and still it seemed like it had achieved nothing. His uncle’s web was impossible to escape, for him and for them. Victory felt like an unachievable task.

He continued to piece together the conversation in fragments of memories. “She was accusing Kenny of selling her daughter. Don’t know if it’s true.” Even if it wasn’t, it didn’t much matter. Kenny was the one dealing her things that she couldn’t afford nor live without, making prostitution practically an inevitability.

“How did you get her away from Kenny?” Erwin asked. He was thanking his lucky stars for having won Levi over. The younger Ackerman gave information willingly and didn’t hold back. He was short and to the point, he didn’t waffle or go off on tangents. Even if he got suspended later for his handling of the case, it would have all been worth it.

“Just grabbed her and…” Levi held both hands up to Erwin, palms out. “Shoved her out the door.” His voice had dropped to a mumble. “Kenny didn’t like it.”

Erwin couldn’t help but laugh. “I’ll bet he didn’t!” Something about this made him almost giddy; he could easily have had a file on the Sita matriarch if Levi hadn’t interfered, which was enough reason to be pleased. But he also felt that it proved him right about his witness’ character. It convinced him that he was not dealing with Kenny’s protégé.

Something about this whole situation mystified Levi. “If the parents are on your tail, why kill the girl…? It’s suspicious…” As he talked to himself, he re-read the death certificate, reminding himself that this was an overdose, not a brutal knifing. He wondered whether it was just another unfortunate drug death, but it seemed too much of a coincidence given the timing of her mother’s visit. 

“By this point, Kenny has a string of deaths behind him, few subtle,” Erwin said, reasoning it out in his head. “Perhaps he thought this was so subtle it was barely a risk. Once someone has killed and gotten away with it, they start to feel invincible, and he has murdered people quite brutally.”

“Maybe.” Levi’s mind was slowly untangling the knots.

Erwin shrugged lightly. “It’s easy to make something appear to be an overdose. Unfortunately I wasn’t involved in this case at all, as Shadis had taken me off drug-related incidents by this point. So by the time I had reason to be suspicious about it, I couldn’t get any further toxicology done.”

“So you think she was poisoned.” Levi said it as a statement rather than a question. It seemed to be where Erwin’s mind was going.

“Seems likely. I’ll track down her mother and see if she can identify Kenny as the man who threatened her. She didn’t report any incident with him, but they fled the city. By the time Suhana died, her family were 235 miles away.”

Seeing the look on Levi’s face, he quickly offered his theory. “It would have been easy for Kenny to give her something toxic instead of her usual fix. An addict like Suhana would have smuggled them away when her parents dragged her out of the city--”

“And when she used Kenny’s product… it killed her, far away from him.” Levi filled in. It was met with a nod and Levi realised again that his uncle was no idiot. The ugly fact was that this was a very clever way to kill someone.

“Please check that the mother is alive,” he said quietly. He had felt too much sympathy for the woman at the time, trying to speak some sense into his uncle while he restrained him, yelling at her to leave. Now he dreaded that Kenny might have had his revenge for her ‘disrespect’ without Levi even knowing.

Erwin nodded curtly. It seemed as if Levi felt deeply about this case. “I’ll email Mike now,” he said, getting out his phone and tapping away. “And I’ll find out what I can.”

As he typed away on his phone, Levi looked at the next file. Rod and Alma Reiss. Something about it drew his attention. A quick scan through the records showed they were a married couple. Then it hit him.

“Reiss,” he said aloud, suddenly, eyes wide and fingers splayed on the table. This was too much to be a coincidence.

Erwin’s eyes snapped up from his text, mid-draft. “What is it?”

“Kenny’s - uh - friend?” Levi wasn’t sure how to refer to Uri. He wasn’t Kenny’s subordinate, and Kenny wasn’t his. Genuine friendships seemed rare in this family, and in this line of work, but this was as close as his uncle came.

“There’s this guy, called Uri Reiss. And he works with Kenny. They’re close. He’s not that bad…” Levi recalled Uri’s interactions with him, limited as they were, and he was always softer than Kenny. Then again, barbed wire coated in broken glass and set on fire was softer than Kenny, so it wasn’t saying much.

Levi eagerly turned the pages, only to find that the reports named the man himself. Uri had found the bodies, and the victims were his brother and sister-in-law. For a moment Levi froze, trying to pick apart the order of events. Kenny _must_ have killed them, but to go against Uri’s wishes was unusual to say the least. 

Levi had avoided making an enemy out of Uri, and he knew for a fact that he and his uncle still spent a lot of time together. Uri wouldn’t be stupid enough to find a butchered body like that and _not_ suspect Kenny. But then why did he still associate with him?

“I don’t understand,” he confessed eventually, tilting his head to meet Erwin’s steady gaze, looking to him for answers.

“Uri Reiss has come up as a name here and there, mostly in interviews, with connection to Kenny,” Erwin explained. “But not for...many years. Usually only as a sidenote too.” This double-murder was the first time he’d really seen them come up in any meaningful way while he’d been on the force, and his Dad had only had a very small file on Uri.

“Rod Reiss was Uri Reiss’ brother,” he continued, thinking as he spoke. “If you know Uri as a friend of Kenny’s then… well, is it so strange to believe he might have had some disagreement with his brother that ended this way? I never believed he just happened upon the scene, and I never believed that he was as upset as he pretended to be.”

Doubt was written all over Levi’s face as he mused quietly. “Uri really doesn’t seem the type…”

“It _appeared_ to be a home invasion..” Erwin refreshed his memory, looking at the crime scene photos. “And they did a very good job of making it look that way.” He pulled a few notes out of the file, that showed endless photocopies of paperwork that had been found in the Reisses home. “You see, Rod and Alma Reiss had a lot of blackmail material. It turned out that many people were paying them off. My investigator made contact with quite a few; high-profile businessmen, one cardiothoracic surgeon, one a partner in a law firm, one ex-judge, millionaires in some cases.”

“How?” Levi looked incredulous. The notes were complex, and made this blackmail project look like a military operation.

“It seems Rod Reiss was very well-connected. He was quite the ladies' man, and had a lot of powerful friends… anywhere there was a crack, his influence seeped in.” As he spoke, Erwin thought Reiss sounded like Kenny. Did Ackerman kill him because the city wasn’t big enough for both of them?

“Sometimes he threatened to tell their wives about their affairs. Sometimes he caught them seeing prostitutes. Sometimes he knew they were embezzling from their companies, or had accepted bribes… you name it. Whatever a person’s sordid history, Reiss used it against them, and extorted them. So the case is technically still open - there were so many potential suspects. It would have been harder to find someone who _didn’t_ want him dead.”

“So maybe they blackmailed Kenny too?” Levi suggested. “Tried to, anyway.”

“That’s my best guess. And that Uri was in on it. He didn’t lie very well in his tape about finding their bodies.”

Levi questioned whether he had been mistaken about Uri. The man had to be harsher than he seemed, otherwise he would be as disgusted with Kenny as Levi was. Either that or he was the most forgiving man on the planet.

“Kenny is _very_ protective of Uri,” he warned Erwin. Somehow, this case felt even more dangerous than their current investigations. Kenny wouldn’t go down or confess without a fight, but when Uri was in danger - hell, even when Uri was just being disrespected - Levi witnessed his uncle become enraged, almost feral. All sense went out of the window. He had beaten some of his otherwise trusted colleagues within an inch of their life for the slightest perceived insults. “Try not to cross his path.”

“Uri is a weakness for Kenny, then,” Erwin said, his eyes flashing as his mind raced with the possibilities. “When you say protective, explain? What form does that take?” He felt this could be of extreme importance if he ever had to manipulate Kenny. There were plenty of possibilities with something like this; he could have Uri arrested or questioned, just to tighten the screws on Kenny, make him slip with and make a mistake. He wasn’t worried about crossing Kenny’s path though. He would happily take any personal risk to bring him down.

A concerned look crossed Levi’s face. It seemed like he said one thing and Erwin heard another. He would not have described Uri as Kenny’s ‘weakness’.

“My uncle is not insane, Smith,” he said firmly. For all Kenny’s deranged actions, Levi was sure that was true. He _could_ control himself, he just had some strange outlook on the world, and frequently chose not to. “Except where Uri is involved.”

The severe tone of his voice made it clear that he took this seriously, and he chose his next words carefully. “If people criticise Uri, he gets mad. Unhinged mad. There’s no telling what he would do if you put Uri in danger.” As Erwin scribbled his notes, he looked almost pleased, and Levi suspected he was still underestimating the situation. He reached out to put his palm flat over Erwin’s hand and the notebook, interrupting the man’s work.

The action surprised Erwin, and he looked up suddenly, startled by the intensity of it. Levi’s eyes were wide and his voice quietly insistent. “Do _not_ put Uri in danger.”

“I will if I have to,” the officer countered defensively. “If it comes to it, if we need to do it to trap Kenny, then I’ll do it. You shouldn’t worry though - I won’t unless I have to. Trust me. I can handle risky situations. Tell me what happened to make you so concerned..?” 

“I _already_ told you.” Levi’s voice was moody as he retracted his hand. Erwin did not speak. His face read that he was awaiting more, so Levi rolled his eyes and tried to think of a way to explain it. “Kenny wouldn’t have shot Isaac Robson if he wasn’t surrounded by yes-men. He wouldn’t have hit Lang if there were witnesses.” Kenny’s actions were sometimes emotion-driven, but even though they were risks, they were calculated. He wasn’t totally lacking in control.

“One time a guy told Uri we didn’t need him. Called him a relic.” Kenny’s eyes had flashed white-hot with rage, and he flew across the table with an alacrity that nobody knew he possessed. Levi had grabbed his fist, only to have it wrenched away from him. The other man had tried to fight him off, but Kenny had come out on top with animalistic strength. “He beat him to a pulp. Only stopped when Uri intervened.” Levi pointed at the last file, Eddie Barr. “The guy who said that is dead now.” There were months in between the two events, and it can’t have been the only motive, but Levi was sure that it had removed whatever hesitation Kenny might have felt. People who criticised Uri were even easier to dispose of than anyone else.

Maybe there was a debt, or maybe Kenny really did value Uri. Maybe there was some genuine human connection left in his uncle. But it was more than money, more than convenience. Levi gestured at the files spread on the table. “Digging in Kenny’s business is playing with fire as it is,” he said. “But fucking with Uri is nuclear.”

Erwin could understand and appreciate the danger Levi was describing, but he wasn’t worried. If Kenny beat him to a pulp then it would be just another reason to get him behind bars. His job was a dangerous one anyway. He decided not to tell Levi any of this.

“Your warning is noted,” he said tactfully. “I’ll remain cautious in any dealings that involve Uri. With luck, I won’t need to do anything at all.” He didn’t sound sure, and was certainly prepared to use this information if it increased the chances of success.

Levi eyed him cautiously. He guessed that the chief wasn’t grasping his meaning. Hopefully the situation would never arise, because Levi was certain that if Erwin threatened Uri, Kenny would knife him in the middle of the police station surrounded by witnesses without a second thought.

“Now,” Erwin said, with intent to distract. “Back to Eddie Barr. So you know Kenny killed him? Because of that clash over Uri?”

Levi watched Erwin darkly, half-tempted to pick this fight, but then allowed himself to be swept along, answering moodily. “It wasn’t just over Uri. But yeah. He worked for Kenny. Hired muscle.”

He remembered when Eddie Barr had stopped showing up, and he had feared that the man was dead. Then the rumours had started, and it was obvious that Barr was never coming back. He sighed in resignation as the file revealed that this was another disappearance without a trace. It seemed the body had never been found. There was a missing person’s report filed but nobody had pushed for more.

“His ex-girlfriend filed a civil complaint because he stopped paying child support. That’s when we started digging, and he was nowhere to be found. Disappeared without a trace.”

“I don’t know where he ended up. But he was replaced pretty quick, and everyone knew it was Kenny.”

Erwin knew it would be an uphill struggle to prove anything without a body. “If I managed to requisition his finances from that time, would I be able to find payments from Kenny?”

Levi nodded. “Definitely.”

Erwin was satisfied with that, since it was better than nothing, and noted down his last details. “Then that’s where we’ll begin.”

That was the last file, and Levi was glad to have reached it, but it wasn’t the last death. There remained the two with which he himself was charged.

“I wasn’t lying--” he began, but then a knock at the door startled him. He tensed, eyes darting towards the kitchen - _Erwin had to keep knives there_ \- the windows - _too high up for an escape_ \- the bathroom - _a hiding place to buy some time_ \- the countertop - _good cover for bullets -_

It was only when Erwin nonchalantly answered the door that he remembered they had ordered takeout. He relaxed the coiled energy in his body, taking a deep breath.

Erwin had not failed to notice the sudden tension that overcame Levi, though he pretended to be oblivious. “Sorry Levi, you were saying?” he said as he nudged the door closed with his hip, two full and heavy paper bags in his hands.

“Back at the station,” Levi resumed, sheepishly stacking Erwin’s files and setting them aside. “I wasn’t fucking with you. I don’t know Jinn or Johnson.”

“I know.” Erwin turned briefly to give him a reassuring and genuine smile, speaking with absolute conviction. “And I _know_ you weren’t there that night.”

Levi gazed blankly at the chief as he took plates and cutlery from various neat little cupboards and drawers of his kitchen. It was strange to be living in a cop’s house and sharing takeout with the guy who arrested you. It was strange to finally offload all the dark and grimy secrets that he had been keeping for decades. But strangest of all was feeling as if he finally had someone on his side. He wondered how long it could last.


	33. Good Morning Chief (22nd August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in many years, Erwin gets home from work to a house that isn't empty. He and Levi have some discussions about the past.

The drive home that afternoon seemed exceptionally long. Every traffic light turned red, giving Erwin additional time to tap his fingers on the steering wheel, heart rate speeding up as he scoffed at his luck. He trusted his witness to an extent, but if Levi had fled town during the work day then he had taken Erwin’s hopes of prosecuting Kenny with him. The press would blow up, Nile would lose his mind, Levi would look guilty and the odds of tracking him down were slim to none. Erwin knew he could make himself difficult to trace when he wanted.

The blond opened the door of his apartment, practically nauseous with the suspense. From his doormat, he could see directly onto the living room; the _empty_ living room. He looked around quickly, assessing the open door to the empty bathroom, the lack of sound coming from the workout room. He checked his office. He checked the bedroom.

On the floor, apparently dusting underneath the bed, was Levi.

Erwin dared to breathe again.

“Hello?” he said questioningly, as he processed what Levi was actually doing. Levi’s dark head reared up from under the bedframe, then he raised one hand in a lacklustre greeting. It wasn’t like him to be caught unawares, but it was nowhere near 5pm, so he hadn’t been prepared for the officer’s return at all.

“Have you been cleaning all day?” It was so surprising that it became amusing, and Erwin chuckled lightly.

“Not _all_ day,” Levi answered defensively. He had taken breaks here and there, but a place didn’t feel at all welcoming until he knew it was clean.

Standing up, he brushed himself down, peeling off the comically large rubber gloves that he had found under Erwin’s sink. Clearly the chief was a busy man, because his house left much to be desired. Clutter was everywhere, and it was dusty in all the usual overlooked places.

“It looks great,” Erwin confessed, looking around. “You even got all my odd socks out from under the bed.” He gestured at a modest pile of dusty socks sitting on top of his laundry. “Thank you Levi, but you really didn’t have to do that. You’re not my servant. You are... a guest.” He couldn’t think of a better word for the strange situation they found themselves in.

Levi decided not to offer an explanation for his cleaning preoccupation, but it was hard to know what else to say to his arresting officer, a man who he barely knew at all.

“Tea?” he ventured finally.

“Good idea,” Erwin said with a nod. “But you’ve obviously been busy, so I’ll make it.”

“Like fuck you will.” Levi nudged him aside and beat him to the kitchen so he could flick the kettle switch. “I cleaned because I wanted to.” He paused to throw Erwin a judgmental stare. “And because a grown ass man shouldn’t have dusty socks under the bed.”

Erwin had the good grace to look sheepish at that.

“I don’t spend a lot of time here,” he explained, leaning against the breakfast bar, admiring how the surfaces sparkled and smelled faintly of lemon disinfectant. “When I’m home, I’m usually doing personal investigation work. Or sleeping. Since I became chief things only got busier and busier.” For the first time he wondered what life would be like if he finally took Kenny down. It was hard to imagine what he would do with himself.

“While I’m here, I’ll clean.” Levi voiced it as a statement, not a request. “And I may as well cook.” There had been plenty to do today, but he predicted that another day of this would drive him out of his mind. With no devices, no phone, no internet and nothing but a television, he expected to feel like a caged animal eventually.

“Well, thank you then,” said Erwin with genuine surprise and gratitude. The rushing noise of the kettle filled the kitchen, alongside another awkward lull in the conversation. Levi folded his arms and leaned on the countertop as Erwin took off his jacket. He had no idea what to say. 

“...Work good?”

“Ah…” The chief looked as if he had never considered the question before. “Busy! Very busy. You gave me a lot to follow up. I spent the day with Mike, going through everything, deciding how best to tackle it all. We’ve sent someone to investigate that potential lead on Faye Scadden, and we’re tracing Jivani Sita - the lady you saved at the warehouse.”

Levi squinted at the word ‘saved’. It made him sound like a hero when he was clearly part of the criminal operation. He could have guessed that their long discussion yesterday would result in lots of work for Erwin, but after spending years starving for leads, it seemed he was revelling in it.

Erwin watched Levi at work, his borrowed t-shirt hanging far past his waist and the shoulders draped far over him. It made his slender frame look even smaller, resulting in an oddly adorable look for a convicted criminal who usually had a face like thunder. He quickly suppressed a smile as Levi’s terse voice cut in again.

“So what’s the official story? Kenny thinks I’m going down for murder?”

“Yes. If he does have an informant at the station, they will only be able to confirm it - that we have charged you.”

Levi nodded. It was safest that Kenny thought his plan had worked. He didn’t dare to jinx it, but he thought his uncle would be minimally suspicious. After all, he had a golden touch where the police were involved. He planned to have Levi arrested and charged, and as far as Kenny knew, his plan had worked.

He chose a truly terrible mug for Erwin, featuring a sleepy cartoon bear and the words _Bear-ly Awake!_ It was enough to make him roll his eyes. He slid it towards the detective along with the milk bottle, letting him add his own. Erwin accepted the mug and chuckled softly at the pun as if he was seeing it for the first time. Though the first time he had seen it, he hadn’t so much chuckled softly as laughed out loud in the middle of the shop. Mercifully, Levi had found a plain white mug for his own tea rather than debasing himself with Erwin’s shitty humour.

“So am I allowed a phone? Access to my money? Something to do while you’re off fighting the good fight?” Levi fired the questions that had been building up throughout the day.

Erwin’s reply came with a sudden and unexpected firmness. “Sorry, but no. It’s too much of a risk at this point. I can’t let you use your account.” He watched his new roommate’s face darken, and tried to offer a lifeline. “But if there’s something you need to make your life easier, there are funds available. What did you want?”

“Some clothes that don’t drown me. What are you, nine foot tall?” Levi grabbed a fistful of the shirt, pounding it against his chest. 

Erwin laughed again, making Levi question how many times a person could do that in the space of ten minutes. “Six foot one. It’s hardly superhuman.”

“Yeah, well I’m drowning in it.” Levi spoke moodily. “And I can’t cook unless you bring home the shit we need.”

He walked past Erwin to settle on the sofa and place his tea on a coaster. Lounging back, he sighed deeply. It was cleaner and quieter than prison, but it was going to get pretty boring here.

“I’d say food and clothing are reasonable requests!” Erwin said, setting down his own cup. With a silent, judgmental stare, Levi raised it just enough to slide a coaster under it. This explained why he had been cleaning rings off the furniture all day. 

Erwin continued unfazed, hoisting his briefcase onto the table, removing his work laptop. 

“Why don’t you show me some clothes you like, and we can order some things for you.”

It was not normal practise for Erwin to take his laptop to work, but hopefully Levi thought it was. In reality, he simply couldn’t leave it at home unattended on the off-chance that Levi managed to get into it and contact anyone with whom he shouldn’t be speaking. He also intended to watch Levi while he did his shopping, hopefully without his witness realising that he was being supervised.

“Not just clothes, either,” he specified. “It occurs to me that you have nothing of your own here. I’m sure you can’t clean my apartment every day, and my books and movies probably aren’t to your exact tastes.”

“I looked at your books. No fucking chance.”

Erwin feigned a look of offence.

“What’s wrong with my books?” He mentally scanned over his shelf and tried to guess what Levi was hinting at. “I suppose I do have quite a lot of high-brow books. But there are a few you could try that are a bit more popular culture.”

Levi threw Erwin a meaningful look, but the blond only tilted his head, inquisitive like a puppy.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I don’t even understand your books,” Levi confessed quietly after some time.

It seemed such a strange thing to say that Erwin frowned deeply, his eyebrows scrunching together.

“What do you mean? You don’t _understand_ them?” It wasn’t unusual for someone to not be so widely read as Erwin was - he’d devoured books since a young age - but that was such odd phrasing.

Levi made a small growl of frustration. “Nobody took me to school when I was a kid, so I missed a lot.” He had started going more frequently as a teenager, but by that point, his teachers were fed up of him and he was too far behind. He could communicate normally, but he often didn’t recognise a written word even if he knew it. He also wasn’t very quick at understanding them, which turned reading into a gruelling chore. “I can make sense of things. But not fucking… Shakespeare.”

“Oh, of course,” Erwin said, finally grasping the point. “So you’re not used to reading at a higher level. That’s sad. For you, I mean.” He paused for a few moments, tapping his fingers on the laptop casing.

“Well, then I’ll get you some books that are a little higher than your current level and you can practise with me. I was going to be a teacher once. I’m sure I can teach you to read.” He smiled slightly, his heart leaping at the idea. Some part of him that he thought long dead was breathing once more.

Levi cringed inwardly at the idea of being in his late 30s and learning to read, but Erwin’s enthusiasm was oddly inviting. He also didn’t seem very judgmental, possibly because he knew exactly how Levi had ended up here.

“...Fine…” he relented with uncertainty in his tone. “If toppling a drug empire isn’t enough to keep you busy.”

“Well that _does_ keep me very busy,” Erwin admitted, though his tone was cheerful. “But I’ll consider teaching you to be a pleasure.” He took a random document from his briefcase, a job advert that his station had posted today, and handed it to Levi. 

“What about this? Can you read it?”

Levi, resigned, looked over it and picked a sentence at random.

“Resolving complex problems, experience with...” He paused, struggling to add up the confusing jumble of letters in the next word. “Sign. Sign and scan. Ability to...” 

He threw Erwin a plaintive look, pointing at the next word.

“Distinguish,” the blond supplied helpfully.

Levi made a small ‘hm’. He could see the word _communicate_ on the same page, and he knew what it was straight away, but _distinguish_ had completely thrown him. It wasn’t about word length. _Com-muni-cate_ made sense. 'Sign' looked wrong and ‘distinguish’ should have a ‘W’ in it.

“So, you see how it is,” he concluded.

“I do,” agreed Erwin. “So I suggest we spend an hour before bed each night reading? You can read to me, and I’ll help you with any words that you don’t know. I think it will be fun in a way.” He was already thinking about some of his more accessible books, ones that he’d read fondly as a young adult and had kept around.

Levi was avoiding eye contact, shifting slightly, mumbling more to himself than to Erwin. “Guess so.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Levi was awkward about the situation, but an acceptance was an acceptance. Erwin decided to give him a break and move on quickly.

“So then.” He opened his laptop and set up a browser. “Show me where you buy clothes from and I’ll order you whatever you need.” He shunted the laptop over to Levi’s knee and leant back, trying to appear comfortable while keeping his eyes on the screen. As a responsible officer of the law he had to supervise, but on a personal level he was simply curious to see what Levi’s tastes might be.

As it happened, Levi didn’t give a fuck where his clothes came from; they just had to fit. Kenny was big on sharp dressing, and his nephew was the same, but the two Ackermans’ ideas on what constituted ‘sharp’ were very different. Kenny liked his old-fashioned shit, leather and pinstripes and hats and trenchcoats, not to mention he was freakishly tall. Levi liked simple, monochrome and clean-cut lines, not likely to draw attention, no huge labels or splashes of colour.

He made a few searches, opened a few tabs, and immediately added a five-pack of plain white t-shirts and five identical pairs of jeans to the cart, followed by multipacks of boxer shorts and socks in the smallest sizes. He nudged the laptop back at Erwin, picking up his teacup instead.

Erwin sighed, giving him a disparaging look.

“This is like the rice all over again,” he complained woefully. “Levi, please choose something more interesting. These are just so basic. Look...” He leaned over the laptop himself and started searching, opening a lot of options that he thought would suit Levi. “How about these?”

With a sullen look, Levi clicked on some of the shirts that Erwin suggested, although he chose the black, grey or dark colour options. Maybe the turquoise he was eyeing would suit his big-ass blond broad-shouldered self, but it would look terrible on Levi, who immediately switched it for navy blue.

“And you didn’t add any pyjamas. Please, get what you need. You are allowed to buy something decent. How about-”

“Fuck no,” Levi interrupted, in response to the red and white zig-zag knitted monstrosity Erwin was pointing at, but he compromised by choosing a couple of close-fit sweaters with simple stripes. He added a couple of pyjama sets too, plain linen shorts with t-shirts. If Erwin wanted to waste the police budget on buying clothes for a criminal witness, then he could go right ahead.

Erwin thought he had irritated his house guest, and in his defence, it seemed very easy to annoy him. But deep down, Levi was looking forward to having his own things and not living in Erwin’s XL shirts. “Don’t get them sent here,” he said.

“I’ll collect them myself,” Erwin assured him. “Now, what else do you need? Tea, perhaps? Since you’re such an enthusiast.”

Levi looked disbelieving. Surely there was no way a cop was allowed to spend police funds this way. Besides, it was creepy when someone knew your habits before you even met them. He didn’t need reminding that Erwin had been tailing him to the tea shops and learning his routines.

“I don’t _need_ it,” he said slowly. The _‘but I want it’_ was implied.

Erwin looked at him, fixing him with a stare and shaking his head slightly. He had no doubt this man didn't _need_ anything; he was as minimal and survivalist as they came. The sort of man who lived out of a bag and uprooted himself whenever his solitude was interrupted without warning. No, he probably didn't need it. But Erwin wanted him to have it.

"I realise that," the officer said. "But I am uneducated in tea and I thought you could introduce me to some other varieties. I expect you to try them all in advance of course. While I'm out." He handed Levi back the laptop. "You'll have to find a decent place. I only know good coffee."

Erwin was hard to read, but Levi was almost certain that he had no interest in tea and was doing this for his sake. Still, he wasn't going to fight it too much.

"Fine."

He set the computer on his lap and this time he directed with more certainty. It was obvious he was more confident buying tea than clothing. Erwin smiled at the look of concentration on his face. He even recognised the names of the shops; Armin had trailed Levi to these places on more than one occasion.

Without sharing much of his thoughts, Levi had added a mixed box of basic blends; Earl Grey, Darjeeling, Assam. After looking at Erwin and appraising him from head to toe, he added some more. One was an apple and cinnamon blend, and another was vanilla rooibos.

"No caffeine," he said, pointing at the screen. Erwin wouldn't have to worry about staying up late.

"You added those so I can have one before bedtime?" he asked. Levi scoffed at it. _Bedtime._ Like he was a six year old schoolboy with a teddy bear and a night light, rather than a 40-year-old chief of police.

Then he added a mocha chai mix, in case Erwin found himself missing his coffee. Finally another blend caught his eye because it was in a yellow tub, named _Good Morning Chief!_

He stared at Erwin, then back at the screen, then back at Erwin, before adding it to the basket without even checking the ingredients. The name alone sold it.

"They must have made that one just for me!" The officer was beaming, taking control of the computer so he could complete checkout. “When did you get so into tea?”

It was impossible for Levi to answer precisely, but he knew his mother used to carry big mugs of it, and sometimes little teacups of it, and he would pester her about it.

_‘What is it? Why is it hot?'_ Eventually, with a cheeky grin, _'Where's miiine?'_

He hadn't liked it at first, because it wasn't very sweet compared to juice. But he felt like an adult when he had it, sitting beside his mother with a teacup and imitating her. And, skinny as he had been, anything that kept him warm was welcome. So he kept trying, and very quickly it became a comfort. As he got older, he grew out of cravings for overly sugary things like chocolate and candy, and instead the malty, mild, sometimes bitter taste of tea was more appealing. Juice was practical. Water was practical. Tea forced you to be slow, to take a moment to sit still and breathe deeply. It was why, in his mind, iced tea was not even the same beverage and had none of the benefits.

"As a kid," he said, realising he had been silent for too long. "My mother liked it."

"You've been into it since you were five?" said Erwin, surprised and curious about the admission. For a moment, Levi was about to ask how the hell Erwin got the number five, then he realised that the cop knew exactly when his mother had died and could figure it out from that. He nodded.

"Well now you have to tell me more - it's quite a cute mental image, you as a small child clutching a cup of tea bigger than your hands. It seems like something pleasant. And I can't imagine you had a lot of pleasant moments in those years."

"My mother owned a few little teacups. She used to..." Levi held his hand up, pinching his fingers together and holding out his pinky finger. It was a memorable image and he could practically visualise her silhouette even now, but he didn't know what else there was to say about how he got interested in tea. Why did Erwin care, anyway? What did this have to do with Kenny?

Erwin laughed very softly at the impression of his mother drinking tea. Something about Levi's little memories reminded him of his own thoughts about his dad; even though they were very different, they were little habits and moments.

"Do you still have any of those teacups?" he asked, but Levi shook his head.

“No. We moved a lot when I was a child. Kenny didn’t prioritise teacups.” He had managed to sneak one into his small suitcase, and keep it for several more years, but that one was now broken too, the pieces tucked carefully away inside a box back at Kenny’s place.

Something about that lost teacup made Erwin feel quite sad to think about. He held it in, keeping the emotion from his face. "That’s a shame. At least you’ll always have tea itself, even if you don’t have those teacups.” He decided to share his thoughts, eager to bond with Levi over something.

“Dad had a lot of books and notepads, scraps of paper and such, that I had to sort through when he passed away. I ended up just keeping this one leather bound book.”

Levi listened to Erwin’s words with rapt attention. “How did you choose it?” 

“I’m not sure...” Erwin rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I remembered seeing it after my mum left. I was only young, but he picked me up and sat me on his knee. And even though she was gone, the book was there on the desk, just like it was yesterday, and the day before that. I suppose I realised that my world wasn’t falling apart, even though she was leaving. Because Dad was right where he was supposed to be. And not even that book was out of place.”

The chief had mentioned his father a lot, especially in view of the case, but it almost hadn’t occurred to Levi that he had a mother as well. Sometimes it slipped his mind that children had two parents.

“Memories stick that way,” Erwin continued softly. His gaze was distant, as though he was lost in a dream, or a memory. “The items connected to them are powerful comforts. I imagine your Mum drinking tea was a time you felt calm and safe, so now tea is calm and safe too."

He was even happier that he’d insisted on buying tea now that he knew it was something that made his new house guest feel comforted. Meanwhile, Levi figured he could get away with asking a personal question, since he’d paid with so many answers of his own.

“Did you ever see her again?”

“Ah...” Erwin looked momentarily thrown. “I… yes, once. She came to Dad’s funeral. I didn’t mind.” He paused to pull his thoughts back together and speak coherently. “Dad didn’t tell me everything until I was about sixteen, and started asking questions. She left because she never wanted a family. I was an accident, but he begged her to keep me and…”

Erwin trailed off as if the story told itself. Levi was no detective but knew pain when he saw it, and kept his silence.

“She gave up her parental rights. When I met her, she told me she was glad to know I’d turned out well, and we exchanged one or two emails. It was interesting for me to know how her life had gone. Nothing more than that.” Erwin held out his arms in a half-shrug, doing his best to mask the strange, dull, twinge of rejection that came with thinking about this.

“Huh.” Levi didn’t know what to say. He had never managed to get Erwin on the back foot until now. It was strange to him that anyone might be able to walk away from a kid like Erwin.

On the other hand, it seemed that even the unconventional parts of his life had been resolved neatly. No screaming arguments at 2am, no protracted custody battles, none of the drama that usually came with divorces and splits. There was a frightening logic in Erwin, and apparently in both of his parents, an unsettling neatness to his life.

Erwin hoped Levi wasn’t pitying him, and spoke quickly. “I don’t feel as if I’ve really lost anything, because I never knew what it was like to have a Mum. I imagine you feel the same about your Dad?”

“Yeah. I’m glad I don’t know him.” Levi’s tone wasn’t bitter, but ardent and sincere. When he put together the few pieces he possessed, he knew the man had to be completely wretched. Probably as bad as Kenny except not as good at it, operating on a much lower level. When Levi pictured him, he imagined a simple-minded drug abuser living a crazy party life, and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Given your Mum’s... career, I suppose you never had a chance of knowing who he was even if you’d wanted to?” Erwin said, guessing as he put the pieces together of what that life must have been like. 

Levi raised an eyebrow at the word ‘career’.

“You mean prostitution.” It wasn’t so much of a dirty word in his mind. Much as he hated the concept and what he could recall of it, there was no scandalised clutching of pearls in his world. No shameful whispers. It was an ordinary thing, like drugs. Borne out of desperation, maybe, but not any kind of shocking. It didn’t make him hate his mother, but he had no respect for whoever his father was. It was one thing to be a desperate 20-year-old trying to pay for your habit. But to fuck a desperate 20-year-old who was trying to pay for their habit… that was something different altogether.

“Yes. Prostitution,” said Erwin. He was quickly realising that Levi was blunt and honest in the way he spoke. There was something so intriguing about his life, a thread that had the officer longing to unravel it. “What was your Mum like, from what you can remember?” Erwin asked out of pure curiosity, but Levi looked uncomfortable. He was starting to feel like a specimen under a microscope, and Erwin sensed the sudden closed-off attitude. He decided to back off, and even offer up some answers of his own to level the playing field.

“Because mine was quite cold, in many ways,” he explained. “But it only made me feel as if I was making more sense of myself by seeing that in her. I can be… detached. But Dad was always so warm. Logical and sure, but warm.”

“Gentle soul, huh.” It was strange to Levi that Erwin thought himself cold and detached, even though he was buying clothes for a criminal, trying to make him feel at home. Buying tea was definitely going above and beyond. He looked at the cop and noticed a nostalgic little smile playing at his lips.

“He was, yes, very gentle. Very concerned with knowledge, with learning, with bettering oneself a little every day. I could hardly have asked for a better parent. He would encourage me in everything I did - any hobby I wanted to try. One birthday he bought me a microscope, the next a violin, the next a big stack of classic literature. And each time he’d do the same thing; watch me unwrap it, help me set it up, encourage me to share it with him and ask me now and again if I was enjoying it.”

Levi was hanging onto Erwin’s every word as he talked about his father. It was deeply painful, even though the detective was keeping his reactions under lock and key. It made Levi regret the life he’d led. Even school had been too much to ask, let alone extracurricular activities. He had never tried to learn about literature or music or science. He decided that Erwin was either very lucky to have his father, or very unlucky to lose him. Maybe both.

In his mind, it was already clear that Sannes was the man behind the gun, and he hated that Sannes was still breathing while Adrian Smith wasn’t. That would be the case even if Erwin was exaggerating Adrian’s personality. Sannes was a murderous motherfucker and if only Levi had known that killing him would have saved lives… who knew? Maybe he would have suppressed his morals for once and assassinated the assassin. Maybe he’d have done time. Maybe he’d still be in jail. Maybe it would have been a price worth paying.


	34. Building Bridges (22nd August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin and Levi continue their conversation about the past, and a little about the future.

Erwin didn’t mind that Levi stayed silent while he spoke, and even stayed silent when he had finished; the look on his face was one of rapture, as if he was hanging on Erwin’s every word. This was one of the deepest conversations he had had for some time, and he found he quite liked it.

He didn’t even feel the need to keep Levi at arms’ length. It was strange to trust this ex-criminal, heir of his father’s killer, more than he trusted some of his own colleagues. Perhaps it was because Levi didn’t seem manipulative or insidious. Erwin suspected that if he said something _that_ bad, Levi would just punch him. After years of dealing with cover-ups, conspiracies and spies on the force, there was a refreshing brutal honesty in knowing what to expect.

Besides, he felt for Levi and the life he’d led, one of loss and disruption. One of the chief’s main pleasures was to escape into a book for a while and forget all his cares, so it hit him hard to think that Levi was robbed of even that. If there was anyone who needed to escape reality, this was him. He could imagine a little version of him so clearly, as if he could see it now. A tiny little dark-haired boy, thin limbs dressed in practically rags, left to his own devices. Entertaining himself, teaching himself, deciding if he would go to school today or not. Growing up alone with no one to care. The weight of the world on such small shoulders.

“Did Kenny ever spend any time with you?” For once his mouth asked the question before his mind caught up. He just couldn’t help wondering if Levi thought of his uncle as a real family, whether their house was a home or just a building.

Levi looked askance at Erwin but said nothing, so he gave some examples. “You know… come and watch you play football, go on holiday, take you out for a meal, or any of that?”

If Levi were built for laughing, he would have done it now. Maybe he hadn’t been clear enough that he wasn’t exactly on the school sports’ teams.

“Not often. And not once I grew up.” Levi thought of the odd occasions that he remembered spending real time with Kenny, rather than just existing in the same building. Once when he was six or seven, because Kenny was trying to impress a woman who thought it was so admirable of him to raise his dead sister’s son. He had been laying it on thick, making Levi talk to her. Once when he got suspended from school. Another time when one of Kenny’s associates had acted up and Levi had laid him out; that was when he learned that Levi had his uses. As pleased as Kenny had been then, he was just as fiercely disappointed when Levi refused to put those skills to use. 

But then he mulled over what Kenny spent his time doing. The less attention Levi got from him, the better. He was usually happier when he slipped off the radar and his uncle forgot he existed.

“It’s not a bad thing.” 

“No, but it’s a shame that he’s all you had,” Erwin told him with a soft sigh. “I find it hard to imagine ignoring a child in my care, and I don’t even have one. Nor do I intend to.” 

It wasn’t a surprise to Levi that Erwin had decided not to be a parent. Frankly, he wondered why anyone ever did it. Children were screaming, vomiting shit-machines for at least a year and then they grew up. Imagine having a child and they grew up to be a total douchebag. You couldn’t put them back. It seemed a stupid risk to him.

“Perhaps I’ll be the proud owner of a spoiled cat one day, but no more than that.” Erwin smiled softly.

Levi thought it over. He couldn’t really blame Kenny for being a useless guardian. It’s not like he signed up for it.

“Kenny never wanted a kid. He doesn’t have any.” Realising he was stating something plainly obvious, he elaborated his line of thought.

“That’s to say, he has women all the time, but nothing ever happened.” His uncle had obviously made the conscious decision to avoid becoming a father. Possibly the most sensible decision of his life. In fact, it had often made Levi wonder how his mother got stuck with him, in her ‘career path’, as Erwin might call it.

Erwin wondered if Levi would have been the same, or if things like friendships, relationships, settling down and starting a family were missed opportunities just like career changes and an education. He hesitated, not knowing if this was a sensitive subject, but soon his curiosity got the better of him and he prodded cautiously as if treading on thin ice.

“And… what about you?”

Levi looked blankly at him, then realised what he was asking, practically wincing at the thought.

“_Children?_ Fuck, no. Can’t imagine anything worse.” He shook his head, eyes so wide with intensity that it made Erwin chuckle. 

"Well, it's good to know someone else in my position," he confessed. "My good friend Nile is a chief superintendent as well, and he has three girls with his wife. Mike and his girlfriend have a little boy. Sometimes it's all they talk about, and all I can say is that my plants are doing well."

Levi gave Erwin a further horrified look. "Plants don't wake you up at 3am screaming and covered in shit. Or demand sweets then leave sticky handprints everywhere."

It wasn't just the hygiene though; he was masking much deeper reasons that he didn’t dare voice. As much as he didn’t want a kid, the idea of one being treated badly felt like heartbreak. He had no interest in a child and didn’t think he would make a great father figure.

“Anyway, I’d probably end up ignoring them,” he concluded, with a hint of sadness tugging at the otherwise even tone of his voice.

Erwin suspected that this stemmed from Levi’s own father figure, and his eyes were shining with open intrigue, steering them back to that topic. “When Kenny did pay attention to you, what was the nature of it? What happened on those rare occasions?”

It was hard to reach through thirty years of history and pluck out examples, but Levi did his best.

“He was... pleased... when I learned his ways.” He said ‘pleased’ as if it was a question. The word ‘proud’ didn’t fit, but even ‘pleased’ sounded too enthusiastic. If he tried to recall what Kenny said whenever Levi punched someone or got in a fight, it wasn’t either of those emotions. It was _“about fucking time, kid!”._

He held up a hand suddenly, hoping that Erwin didn’t think Levi had been taught the ways of drug-dealing and murdering and disposing of bodies. “Nothing too sketchy. I just mean fighting. As a kid. He didn’t want me being a pushover.”

Erwin hadn’t suspected that Kenny had taught Levi the worst of his crimes. Frankly, it was amusing that Levi showed concern about it. Perhaps he didn’t realise how much Erwin had already learnt about him.

“Don’t worry. I think I see where your limits are,” Erwin assured in a gentle voice. “Fighting makes a lot more sense - wanting you to be tough, as he saw it. Such a traditional view.” He sighed, imagining what his father would have said if he had gotten into fist-fights at school. Luckily he wasn’t the type, because Adrian had been disappointed enough when pushing and shoving had been involved.

“Not a good philosophy to teach a child. I don’t agree with it at all.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. You’re a cop. You’re not supposed to agree with illegal things.”

“It’s not just about my job.” Erwin sounded defensive. “To me being tough is doing the right thing, making the hard decision. Not punching someone because they didn’t agree with me, or whatever other reasons Kenny decides merit violence.”

Levi cracked a smile, unable to hold it back. There was something funny about Erwin’s words. He pictured Kenny listening to this philosophy, the way he’d throw his hands in the air, _“bah!”,_ and pace all frenetically, like a caged animal. If Erwin wanted to piss Kenny off, he didn’t need to pin him for murder after all; he could earn his hatred just by giving him that speech.

The smile that crossed Levi's face was strangely endearing, which Erwin attributed to its rarity. He looked very different when he broke away from his usual expressionless demeanour, and Erwin felt privileged to have drawn it out. "What's that smile for?" he asked curiously.

Levi quickly tried to blank the expression from his face when it was pointed out to him. "You. And your mellow... pacifist... Gandhi shit. You're the anti-Kenny."

"No one has accused me of that before!" said Erwin, as he burst into laughter. "My colleagues think that I'm ruthless, but I suppose I'm not very _aggressive_. That's the difference, isn't it?” 

It was strange that Levi thought him so gentle, when his colleagues thought him so harsh. He mulled over it, thinking aloud. “I think they compare me to Shadis.”

“That’s… the guy before you?”

Erwin gave a single nod. “Yes. My predecessor and my own superior officer for many, many years. He let them do sloppy work and get away with a lot. I’m harder on them, hence the fearsome reputation."

As Erwin spoke, Levi's eyes tracked down to the mug he was holding, emblazoned with a cartoon bear and a terrible pun. So much for fearsome.

Luckily, Erwin was lost in his thoughts and didn't notice the judgmental look. "He couldn't see the bigger picture," he continued pensively. "Which is why we are here now."

He was considering it all once again. He had spent many nights infuriated by Shadis' lack of action, by his increasing obstruction in the cases and his seeming inability to listen to anyone else.

"Do you blame me for not catching Kenny sooner?" he asked in a plain tone, glancing up at Levi. "I am a police officer after all. Do you wonder why I didn't do something more?"

Levi shook his head. It had never crossed his mind to blame Erwin. "No. I thought you would blame me.” After all, he was the one who had been living there and could have prevented some of this. Maybe. He still wasn’t certain exactly what he could have done, but that didn’t stop guilt from following him like an old enemy bearing a grudge.

The chief, by contrast, seemed to let go far more easily. “Sounds like we agree that neither of us is to blame then,” he said. “Because I _don’t_ blame you. Circumstances left us both in difficult positions. Neither of us were able to fully trust the police, neither of us knew the full extent of his crimes, and neither of us saw a way forward until now. Shadis didn’t help with that.”

“This old chief of yours sounds like a dick.” Levi looked meaningfully at Erwin. “You think he might be…?”

He understood what Levi was getting at but he shook his head. If the chief of police was the one taking bribes from Kenny, things would be even worse than they were.

“He was old fashioned, that’s all. Thought people who take drugs choose that life. He didn’t understand what it was to suffer from addiction and had very little sympathy. But no - no, he’s not Kenny’s informant. I have checked him out to be sure.”

It had been hard not to resent Shadis when he was stalling all of Erwin’s plans and letting things slip through the net, but Erwin had long been convinced that Shadis’ crime was being short-sighted, not corruption.

“His problem was that he didn’t care enough about certain sections of society. So if you were a little old lady who had her purse stolen, he was as nice as could be. He’d hunt your attacker down to the ends of the earth to get justice for you. Unfortunately, if you were an addict who got beaten and robbed....” He shrugged. “In his eyes, you brought it on yourself. In some ways it’s frustrating that he wasn’t the only problem. My job would be a lot easier now if that had been the case.”

“Huh.” Levi thought about it. He could imagine the type of man this Shadis must be. Kenny had capitalised on the fact that his associates would never go to the police, even if he turned against them. It was what kept Levi out of prison; until Dachtler, anyway. Now he could easily see why. It sounded like anyone with a criminal history who asked for police help was soundly dismissed, and _all_ of Kenny’s associates had a criminal history, Levi included.

“When did you say you got shot of him?”

“Last spring,” Erwin replied. “I became Chief a couple of months later. Just before it happened we had had a few damning reports, stats showing a rise in the number of dealers on the streets, huge numbers going to jail over repeated possession.”

Erwin thought over how best to summarise the difference in Shadis’ management and his own. “For a long time, we were encouraged just to hit every addict with a heavy sentence. Almost all of our charges were against low-level users for possession. Shadis had no interest in hunting down the source; or rather, he couldn’t see where the source was. But jailing addicts had no effect; narcotics have grown out of control. He started taking a lot of flack from higher up the chain, and when a new job came up, he was ‘encouraged’ to take it.”

He used air-quotes to emphasise his point. It was pretty well-known that Shadis had been pushed into a cushy desk job instead. “So I decided to apply for the position, came up with plans for how to tackle the problem, and the problem starts with Kenny.” He smiled to himself, remembering the night he’d decided to apply, the time he’d spent eagerly drafting up his ideas to present at the interview. Most of them were ideas he had presented to Shadis, only to be shut down. Now he had free rein.

Levi was thinking about how all this had happened on his side. Kenny never talked in specifics about his connections with the police, but it was an open secret that they existed. He always knew too much. If any building was under suspicion, he had it cleared out. If any person was being investigated, they soon went on ‘holiday’ until it died down. When reports were made, he knew where they came from.

He frowned. If those connections had stopped last spring when Erwin took over, he hadn’t noticed. Kenny had still had just as much information as before.

“...So the informant’s still there. Right?”

Erwin’s face took on a serious look, his mouth set into a hard line.

“Yes,” he confirmed. “They are. I’m sure of it. And I can’t identify which member of my team it would be.”

“And that’s part of why I have had to work so secretly when it comes to you. I trust Mike, but other than him, no-one on the force knows where you are actually staying. I will have to deal with this informant before too long, find a way to root them out. I won’t risk moving forward while a double agent is tearing up my investigations, and I won’t risk Kenny walking free again.”

Levi was slightly amused by the idea of being hidden out here, without even the police knowing it. That explained why he couldn’t even have his phone.

Then his expression turned dark. “The big guy. Mike. He arrested me before.” It was so many years ago, but he wasn’t exactly over it.

“Oh, he did, huh?” said Erwin, looking at Levi with interest. It was on the files but he had almost forgotten. He tried to imagine it; giant Mike tackling Levi. He couldn’t help but think that Mike might have had a hell of a struggle arresting him, despite appearances.

“You must tell me what happened!” He suddenly realised he was grinning at the mental image of Mike being evaded by Levi. In his head, they looked like cartoon characters running after each other in circles.

“Tch… first time I ever got taken in.” Levi looked suspicious. He hadn’t expected Erwin to be so gleeful about it and wondered what was going on in his head. “What’s to say? I beat up Sannes and then your _friend_ came to take me in.”

Erwin grinned a little wider; it was an unrelated incident, but he took some pleasure from the idea that Levi had beaten the hell out of his father’s true killer. But then he shook his head and feigned a look of disappointment.

“I’m imagining quite an interesting fight,” he said. “And your description was lacking in detail. Did you put up much resistance? Mike is a very good officer, but you are a tough... street fighter?” That was the best way he could describe it.

“I wasn’t about to fist-fight two cops,” Levi answered, not exactly pleased to be reliving his ‘glory days’. But there had been little point in resisting and he’d known it at the time. At least he hadn’t done time in jail over the attack on Sannes.

“Does it affect how you feel about him now? Because we will be needing Mike’s support.” It would be just bad luck if it turned out Mike had done something stupid when arresting Levi, or said something insulting, when he was the only person upon whom Erwin could really rely.

Levi scoffed. “Why would it?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously. He didn’t need any extra reason to dislike a police officer. They were all as bad as each other. “I don’t like _any_ of you.”

On reflection, that answer shouldn’t have surprised Erwin. Of _course_ Levi didn’t like police officers, but Erwin was hoping that Levi would come to see him, at least, as different.

“Interesting,” he admitted. “Even though you don’t like police officers, you are still here with me. So do you trust me, but not the others?” He eyed Levi, watching him closely, for the answer to this question. “Please be truthful, Levi. Don’t be afraid of hurting my feelings because you won’t.”

“It’s this or prison.” Levi said, as if it was obvious. He was only hoping that Erwin’s hatred of Kenny would make him fight to catch the right perpetrator. “We’re not _friends_. I’m here for one reason only.”

It felt vindictive and not completely honest. But Levi was suddenly realising how open he had been, with a police officer of all people, and how much he was enjoying listening to Erwin. Getting attached like this was a dangerous start.

Erwin nodded, keeping his expression mellow. No need to corner a wounded animal. He had a suspicion that Levi was being defensive, giving the answer best designed to keep him at a distance, but he saw no reason to call him out on it directly.

“Of course,” he said lightly. “I understand you’re only here because of circumstances, and I have no expectation of friendship. My only expectations for our association is that you will respect that you’re in my home and that we can be polite and civil to one another when we speak. Nothing else is necessary.” He smiled, his tone matter of fact but warm.

Levi rolled his eyes. He was used to being the unwanted guest in someone else’s space but it never got any easier.

“I cleaned _everything_,” he murmured, silently adding, _what more do you want from me?_

In his attempt to make Levi feel at ease with their living situation, Erwin now feared he might have had the opposite effect. This was his weakness when it came to people; he was unpractised at these closer, personal exchanges. He felt more confident when he was questioning someone, or working to a defined plan.

“I don’t mean to belittle what you have done,” he said slowly, trying to find the best way to reassure him. “I’m delighted to have a clean place, and frankly also to have some company. It’s a novelty for me.”

Levi’s face registered faint surprise and his eyes seemed more alert as he looked up at Erwin, but he said nothing so the officer continued.

“Just don’t think I expect more from you than you can give. I haven’t forgotten that you are here because I placed you here. You don’t have to earn your keep like some kind of slave. I’m grateful to have you as it is.”

Company was one thing, but criminal company sleeping on your spare mattress? Levi glared at Erwin as he tried to assess whether he was being sarcastic. In the end, again, he concluded that he wasn't. The man must be lonely as hell if he didn't object to having Levi here. It might be the first time anyone had ever been glad he was around. His whole countenance softened, the hard edges and lines of his face easing as if ten years fell away in an instant.

"I understand," he said.


	35. Domestic (23rd August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin brings home some new things for Levi, and Levi cooks for both of them.

Bags in his hands, Erwin felt cheerful as he walked from his car up to his apartment. He enjoyed the idea of coming home to someone, even if that someone was the man he had arrested and was now keeping in his custody. At least his apartment wasn’t a bad replacement for a holding cell.

Like the previous day, he felt a sense of trepidation about arriving home just in case Levi had fled, but thankfully he had not. Erwin greeted him politely as he came in and kicked off his shoes.

Levi was actually pleased to see his arresting officer. After spending a whole day cleaning, he was now left with very little to do. He had struggled through one of Erwin’s books, but reading was such a slow process that he soon got bored. Then he watched a lot of television, but that got old quickly too.

He wasn’t exactly used to company, but being taken away from the internet, his phone, video games and all of his own possessions was making life very tedious, even after just one day. Luckily the chief had returned at a reasonable hour, with what appeared to be a lot of luggage.

“The stuff we ordered yesterday,” Erwin responded to his quizzical expression, as he placed the sealed postage bags onto the kitchen table, along with one from the supermarket and one containing a few books. “I picked up the ingredients for lasagne, and some more milk because… tea.” He gestured at the bag that was clearly marked with the logo from the tea shop.

Levi took the milk and put it straight in the fridge, then quickly claimed the bag of groceries. “I’ll cook. Find me a recipe to follow.”

He masked his excitement at having a task, _any_ task to complete; although he had to admit he didn’t cook much and hoped he wouldn’t make a terrible mess out of it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like cooking, but more that he could never guarantee if he would have the kitchen to himself or if Kenny would show up. Besides that, the kitchens were always gross whenever they switched houses. It was clear his uncle did no cleaning when he had the run of the place.

“I have one here,” Erwin said, and lifted a cookbook from the shelf, flicking to a page with a folded corner. He didn’t cook very often, but since Levi had cleaned it wasn’t as dusty as it had been a few days ago. He didn’t say so, but there was something nice about having a meal cooked for him as a change, and he felt a significant amount of appreciation over it.

Levi cringed slightly as Erwin went for a book, having expected him to check his phone. He was sick of the sight of paper. He hoped it would at least be accessible so he wouldn’t have to ask Erwin about any words that he didn’t understand.

Accepting it anyway, he opened it to the page Erwin had marked, but then his interest got the better of him. He started examining the bag from the tea shop, then pointed at it.

“Open it then,” he instructed Erwin. It felt obnoxious to open up bags of expensive things that the cop had paid for with his own money. None of this belonged to Levi.

Erwin had taken a seat at the little round table and was in the process of removing his tie. He chuckled at Levi’s demand.

“_You_ open it,” he countered. “Everything inside is yours.”

With some hesitation, Levi looked over the items, before conceding. The lure was too great. “...Fine.”

He sank his fingers into the pliable plastic wrapping and split it, only for individually wrapped items of clothing to slip out onto the table. There were two sets of pyjamas, as well as a few cosy jumpers, two pairs of jeans, and some plain shirts. Most of them were neutral colours, just like he had chosen, all grey, black, white and tan. He felt slightly spoiled.

He was slightly unnerved by Erwin’s eyes on him, but the cop was simply feeling the second-hand joy of receiving pristine new items, all perfectly folded. He thought they’d made some good choices and he was sure it would be much nicer for his guest to wear things that fit properly and belonged to him, rather than borrowed oversized cast-offs from his own wardrobe.

Levi had turned his attention to the tea delivery, which was _definitely_ spoiling him. It was the small bright yellow box that caught his eye. He read the ingredients aloud, slowly. “Black tea... sunflower… cornflower…” He held it out to Erwin, displaying the bright title. _Good Morning Chief!_

“I’ll make some for you tomorrow morning.”

Erwin took the tin from him, opening it and finding himself impressed by how much he liked the smell. It was very different from normal tea, with fruit and sweet flowers mixed in.

“Thank you, I’m excited to try it,” he said sincerely, then glanced over at his little window box of plants, wondering if you could grow tea leaves in pots like that. He’d never thought about it before.

Meanwhile Levi was absently tugging at the collar of his borrowed shirt, which hung low on his neck and made him feel all too exposed. Since Erwin’s gigantic t-shirt left his throat feeling vulnerable, he had a habit of sitting with his hand covering his jugular vein. Erwin was irritatingly observant, and there was a chance that he would notice it soon, so Levi decided to change immediately, sloping off to the bathroom with a plain black shirt and some blue jeans.

When he emerged, he felt better. He hadn’t grown a single inch but he felt normal now that he was wearing clothes that fit. Being 5’2” and wearing XL shirts made him feel comically small.

He immediately began to unpack the food items, reading over the recipe and getting started. Soon he was completely distracted, admiring the fancy things Erwin owned. Perhaps they weren't really fancy, but they were practical and functional. The knives were clean and sharp, and he had a garlic press, and more than one large spoon. Kenny's houses weren't exactly kitted out for this type of cooking.

Erwin watched his house guest, noticing that everything he touched seemed fascinating to him. After a few surreptitious glances, he found himself unable to resist commenting.

“You look good,” he complimented. “And I hope you feel more at home now that you have something to wear and some tea to drink.”

Levi’s gaze shot up. For a moment he silently analysed those words, then concluded that he wasn't being mocked. Rather than face the awkwardness of receiving a compliment, he buried himself in the book, pretending to concentrate deeply.

It was exactly the kind of response that Erwin expected, and he couldn’t help but smile, moving on quickly and gesturing at his small stack of books. “By the way, I got these from the library, I thought we could have a reading lesson tonight.”

"Uh huh. If you have time."

"Yeah, I do." Erwin couldn’t help but notice how different Levi looked in his new shirt, the long sleeves fitted around narrow wrists, leading to small, deft hands, now busily assembling items around a chopping board.

"I'm not _that_ much of a workaholic,” he mused aloud. “I have time to take breaks."

“Teaching me to read is not a break.” Levi rolled his eyes, then he tapped his finger on the recipe page. "Oi. I need you. What's this?"

The cop shuffled over to him, standing behind and leaning over his shoulder to see the word in question. Levi stood tense while Erwin was at his back. It was oddly vulnerable. The guy could choke him out right now if he wanted. And Levi would kick his ass for trying, but still, he would have the advantage.

He buried those thoughts deep, trying to trust that Erwin wouldn't do something so recklessly violent. He was a different breed. Not like Kenny. Not like Duran. Not even like Levi.

It seemed Erwin had no such thoughts. "It says 'preheated'," he answered breezily. "Now I think about it, the only place I've seen it used is in cook books, so if you haven't done much cooking like this before it makes sense you don't know it." He scanned his eyes down the recipe, stood close to Levi. "Any others bothering you?"

"No," he said, then, "wait." He pointed at the instruction '3 tbsp', then the assembled cutlery he had lined beside the book.

"That's this one, right?" He turned, holding the tablespoon up for inspection. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but he didn't want this to be one of those terrible sitcom embarrassing moments where he made a lasagne that was salty enough to kill Erwin.

Erwin had been staring, without really realising it, at the back of Levi's head. His hair was so dark, and the undercut looked... soft. Maybe the only soft thing about him. Everything else was sharp - his jaw, his words, his personality. Just this one soft part hiding away.

"Hm?" he jolted alert as Levi turned to face him, pulling him from his thoughts. "Oh, yeah - that's a tablespoon. Very good." He smiled to himself, feeling very much like a teacher all round tonight.

Levi tutted, thinking that using _tsp_ and _tbsp_ for two completely different sizes of spoon was a disaster waiting to happen. As he got to work dicing up garlic and onions, he marvelled at Erwin's risk-taking behaviour. The man knew he was a convicted criminal, of violent crimes no less, and yet here he was standing within arm's reach of Levi, letting him wield a knife. Either the man was not that protective of his own life, or he trusted his strange guest. Both possibilities were insane.

"If you had to teach me anything, what would it be?"

The question threw Levi completely. Once again it seemed Erwin’s mind was wandering far away from his.

"I don't know anything you'd want to know." He reflected on the things he had done with his time in place of school and reading, but they weren't worth much.

"I guess... I draw... sometimes. Maybe that."

He dabbed his tears away with his sleeve, shaking his head at the embarrassment, and Erwin startled at the sight.

“Levi! Did I say some--”

Levi interrupted him with a frustrated ‘tch!’, indicating the onions with his knife, and the officer felt slightly sheepish for assuming it was anything else. With a chuckle, he took a few sheets of paper towel. Reasoning that Levi would do more damage if he tried to dry his own tears with onion-stained fingers, he reached out to do it himself.

“Here,” he said softly, but Levi quickly put the knife down and snatched the paper from his hand.

“Fuck off with that shit,” he mumbled, elbowing Erwin away and turning back towards the chopping board, pressing the scrunched up towel to his eyes himself.

Feeling like he had made a mistake, Erwin busied himself by clearing the table and threw their conversation back onto safe territory.

"So… drawing, hm?" he asked, a new eagerness to his voice. "I don't think I've drawn anything since I was at school, and that was probably flowers or fruit bowls or something boring." He mused for a moment. "I didn't really like subjects that didn't have definite answers. I like to know that two plus two equals four, and that correct answers will get me a mark. Essays are fine too - I know how to structure an argument, and use citations correctly, but Art was too nebulous for me."

Levi pulled a face at the word 'citations'. He was vaguely aware of what it meant but it sounded complicated. It was a long time since he'd had to think about anything academic.

“What did you like to draw?” Erwin ventured, hoping to cajole more information out of his rather secretive new friend.

"Plants, people... places." Levi spoke absent-mindedly as he carried on with his work, raising his voice over the sizzling of the frying pan. "But I still failed Art."

"See?" said Erwin, his voice almost triumphant. "Art is for fun, I don't see how you can test it! It doesn't have answers." He shook his head, as if it was obvious, then sat down at the table.

Erwin’s enthusiasm was more than Levi had anticipated, and he suddenly wondered if he was in over his head. "You're not going to set me homework, are you?" he asked with a moody expression. "I’m warning you. I've fought teachers for less."

"I absolutely _should_ set you homework," he told Levi, ignoring the threatening look he was getting. "If I'm going to teach you, I'll do it properly, and you may as well occupy your time here with something useful. I don't mind if you also want to draw or request anything else, but I may set you chapters to read each day."

In answering, he had almost missed the importance of Levi’s words. Doubling back, he repeated them incredulously.

"Sorry, what? You had _fights_ with _teachers?_"

"Uh..." Levi slowly turned away to open tins of tomatoes as a way to escape Erwin's penetrating gaze. Should he be honest?

"No. Not really." A cautious glance over his shoulder told him that Erwin wasn't buying it. "I never _hit_ them..." He sighed. "I don't like people in my space."

"I bet they thought you were a terror at school," Erwin guessed, but with a hint of amusement in his tone.

“They did.” Levi didn't need to point out that they were right. But his bark was usually worse than his bite. He didn't need to punch or kick a teacher when he could just threaten them. Still, they weren't impressed by his language.

"If you didn't hit them, what did happen...?" Erwin was looking for excuses to busy himself in the kitchen, so he filled up a small plastic jug and started watering the plant boxes that lined his windows, overlooking the city from high in his apartment block.

"I'd tell them to get their fucking hands off me." Levi paused, looking up at Erwin with a blank expression, wondering how much judgment he was about to receive. "And then they'd call Kenny."

"Heh. And I wonder who it was that taught you that kind of response in the first place." 

Levi shrugged as if the answer was obvious. It wasn't that Kenny instructed him on how to treat people, so much as Levi witnessed his behaviours and imitated them. Nor was it just Kenny; his mother had tempestuous mood swings when she was using and he picked up some hurtful statements there, storing them up like ammunition. When he wanted a teacher out of his space, he would bare his teeth and clench his fists, tiptoeing until his forehead touched theirs. They must have thought he was a demon child.

Erwin shook his head as he added just the tiniest bit of water to his aloe vera plant, and fussed with the long leaves for a few moments.

"I'd like you to teach me how to draw one day," he said. "I'd try drawing some of my plants.”

Levi looked around the fridge door to observe Erwin's behaviour. It appeared he was serious. He wanted to teach, learn to draw, catch a murderer, bring down a drug empire and run a police district all at once.

"How many hours are in a day, Erwin?" 

“Hmm?” The blond looked up innocently, then realised he was being mocked. “Oh, you’re teasing me. Well, I confess, I’m a little ambitious with my time. I don’t mind - I like keeping busy. I’d rather have too much to do than not enough. Besides, isn’t drawing supposed to be a relaxing hobby? I’d think you’d want to encourage that.” He chuckled, and earned himself a resigned look.

Erwin had little in the way of art supplies, but he might be able to dig out some plain notebooks for Levi. He was keen not to let his guest get bored during the days while he was working. “What do you use, pencils? Inks? Paint?"

Levi sighed and rolled his eyes. What possible equipment did Erwin think he would have owned as a child? He pictured the simple HB pencil he had stolen from school. Any time it got too small to use, he stole another. As an adult, he bought his own things, but he didn't exactly have an abundance of cash and hadn't thought to branch out, so he bought the same; plain graphite pencils, probably better suited to writing than drawing.

"...Pencil," he answered shortly.

Captivated by the smell of Levi’s cooking, and hearing the hum of the oven, Erwin wandered back into the kitchen. He marvelled for a moment at how pleasant it was to have the company; to be in his home, with someone, cooking and talking and being domestic. It felt very different from being alone. 

“How’s it looking?” he asked, eyeing the prepared dish, starting to feel hungry.

“Tch!” Levi held up a hand as if warding Erwin away. “It still needs to go in the oven.”

He used an oven glove to do just that, then folded his arms and leaned on the counter again. While looking at the page, he read out, “30 minutes.”

“It looks good,” Erwin said, trying not to look too sorry about how long it was going to take, though he did place his hand on his stomach, hinting. “Thank you.”

He had barely turned away when he heard Levi speak again.

“...oh.”

Levi was holding the book open to Erwin, pointing at the head of the page. _Serves 4 - perfect for a family!_

There was something funny about the dismay in his tone, and Erwin smiled. “Luckily there’s no such thing as too much lasagne.”

“...Take leftovers to work?” Levi suggested.

“Oh - good idea! I’ve never done that before, but I’m sure I have a lunchbox somewhere…”

Erwin started rummaging through a cupboard, speaking absent-mindedly over the rattling of long-forgotten kitchen detritus. “I think I got it in a raffle, or maybe a gift exchange. I never use it these days. I don’t exactly do much cooking.”

Finally he pulled out a slightly dusty, bright yellow box that said _‘yay, food!’_ on the front. His triumphant expression was completely paralleled by Levi’s look of disdain.

Levi didn’t even know what was most insulting about this box. The bright colour? The chirpy, childish statement? He decided eventually that the dust was the worst offender, and snatched the box out of Erwin’s hands like it was an infected specimen.

As he scrubbed the box with liberal amounts of washing up liquid, he hoped that the lasagne turned out alright. It wasn’t going to look good if he poisoned his arresting officer. For that matter, Erwin should have checked that Levi wasn’t attempting to poison him. This was just another example of him showing too much trust in an altogether untrustworthy person. He glanced at the cop, but Erwin looked misty-eyed and far away, so Levi chose not to disturb him.

Silently, Erwin was lost in deep thought, gazing at the kitsch little lunchbox. Finding it reminded him of how he used to save money by making sandwiches at home, at the very start of his career as a junior officer. He’d wrap them in foil and take them to work in a plastic box similar to this one. As the years went on he’d fallen out of the habit, and he wasn’t struggling for money anymore, but there was something clinical and wasteful about eating pre-packaged sandwiches as he worked through every lunch break, never taking a single break, staying at his desk long after his shifts ended.

There was a bittersweet feeling in this domestic life with Levi, and Erwin was shocked that he felt moved so strongly after just a few days. Not only did he wonder if he had missed out on something all these years; he wasn’t even sure how he would adjust back to his lonely life once it ended.


	36. Reading Lesson (23rd August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin and Levi try their first lesson together.

“How do you know I’m not going to kill you?” 

The brutality of the question was at odds with Levi’s blasé demeanour, as he dried his hands on a towel and set the washed dishes on the rack.

Erwin stopped and turned his head towards him, eyebrow raised.

“Honestly, Levi, I… the thought never occurred to me,” he confessed. “I know you’re not a murderer, so why would I assume you’d kill me? And how foolish would you have to be to stay in my home, clean everything, and then do it? You’d be the only real viable suspect.”

Levi tilted his head, conceding that point, although Erwin had already given away the fact that nobody but Mike knew his whereabouts. If Levi was supposed to be in a real safehouse, that could actually be the perfect alibi.

“Why - _are_ you planning on killing me?”

“No. I’m not.” Levi’s tone was as light as before. He knew he wasn’t going to kill Erwin. The puzzle was how Erwin could take that gamble. It never occurred to him that his criminal housemate might, in fact, do something criminal?

“Of course not. If so, I’m sure you would do better than poisoned lasagne.” 

Erwin paused, a small smile of intrigue and perhaps victory on his face. “How do you know _I’m_ not going to kill _you_?”

Levi glowered back at him. The cop was being facetious, as though the very idea of him committing murder was ridiculous. And it was, but that didn’t mean that Levi hadn’t considered it. Unlike his companion, he always first considered the thought that he might be in danger. It was his instinct.

“Because you hate Kenny too much.” He didn’t mention that he had slipped one of Erwin’s kitchen knives under the bed, beside the spare mattress, just in case someone tried to take him out; Erwin or anyone else. Old habits died hard, and Levi wouldn’t die easy either.

Erwin leaned his hip against the counter and fell silent. It was a good answer. He didn’t have the high alert senses that Levi had. As he glanced around his apartment, scrubbed pristine, he wondered if this life of danger was why cleanliness meant so much to Levi. Not that he was complaining; it made such a nice change to see perfectly clean carpets, shiny surfaces, dust-free shelves, and for the hundredth time, he made a resolution to keep it tidier from now on.

"I think I can understand your mindset," he began. "You've lived a life of chaos and disruption until now. I haven't. Outside of work, no one has attacked me. However..." 

He trailed off for a moment, then decided to divulge his secrets, and continued; "After Dad died, I felt it. Unsafe. Someone murdered him in his own home - in our home." He swallowed down a sudden, unexpected wave of emotion. 

"It used to strike me now and again, how easy it is to kill. For someone who has the desire. How a living person, the centre of my whole world, could become nothing but a body within an instant.” His voice grew distant as his thoughts grew deep. “I never slept in that house again," he added finally.

"You moved house?" Levi’s voice was gentle but with a tone of surprise. Moving sounded like a big deal to him. He was forced to uproot all the time, and always envied people who could stay in one place for years at a time. His dream was to have one address for many years. For Erwin to give that up seemed like such an enormous event.

"I came home to find him," Erwin said, looking away, fixating on the plants in the window. "How could I stay there after that? I mean… I didn't _want_ to leave. It had been my home all my life, but it felt different after that. It was better to go somewhere else, start afresh. Not have to think about it every time I came in the door, or down the stairs."

Levi listened silently, paying close attention. He had found his mother too, but he hadn't realised what was going on. He was a child, not like Erwin. And it wasn't brutal. Erwin must have found a body, a bullet wound, bloodstains. Levi's mother had just looked like she was sleeping.

He tried to remember if she had died at hospital, or if she was already dead when he found her. He figured she must have made it there because he had vague recollections of being at the hospital, and they wouldn't have taken her in if she was already gone. But it was all hazy. Listening to Erwin, he was almost glad that he was anaesthetised by his age and his lack of comprehension at the time.

It wasn't the shocking detail that surprised him. It was the emotional honesty, the way Erwin bared his thoughts from a painful time. And to the nephew of the man he suspected had caused it all, no less. After spending some time deep in thought, Levi chose not to comment on it, but he looked at the man with more sympathy for having heard it.

It was important to Erwin, to the case and to this setup here at home, that Levi trusted him. Without that, Levi could turn on him or leave, but luckily he felt at ease with the man. That made it much easier for Erwin to open up himself, make sure Levi felt privy to his secrets, and create an air of trust and honesty between them. Admittedly it was a tactic he’d never had to try before. These small measures of vulnerability were uncomfortable, but he was sure they were worth it.

“So you bought this place?” Levi was doubly glad that he hadn't had to make any decisions about living situations or funerals or money. He'd gone with Kenny and never went back. Nobody expected a five-year-old to do anything.

“After a while. I stayed somewhere temporary, then rented for a bit, until the sale was complete.” Erwin recalled the few months he had spent on Mike’s sofa. Luckily his friend was still living in his own bachelor pad back then. It was less than a year after Mike had joined the police force, and Erwin made sure to schedule his fits of grief into the times that he had the flat to himself. Mike was polite enough to act normal even when he came home to find a blotchy-faced, red-eyed Erwin, still in his pyjamas at 6pm. It had been a truly unpleasant time of sorting out the will and inheritance, selling the old house, buying the new one. Looking back, he could scarcely understand how he pulled through it.

“Anyway,” he said, more brightly than he felt. “What I mean is that I’m glad you trusted me enough to stay here, even with your...” He paused, trying to think of an end to his sentence that wouldn’t offend Levi. “...your experiences.”

"I know I can look after myself," Levi countered. His voice was even, but it was a concealed warning, letting Erwin know that his would-be victim wasn't an easy target. Then he changed the subject in case the cop started getting the impression that he was being threatened.

"So these books." He pointed at the table. "They're not kids' books, are they?"

"No, not kids’ books," Erwin confirmed, walking over and picking one up. "They look accessible but not patronising. I've never heard of any of them before, but they looked interesting. Shall we start one, while the food is cooking?" 

He held the book up to his face and smiled, as if the combination might be enticing somehow. “This one seems to be about… demons?” 

"_Demons_?"

Erwin wondered if that was a no, and hoped he hadn’t chosen the wrong book. He wasn’t sure he would have ever chosen a supernatural story to read himself, but this was about Levi’s reading practise, not how great a novel it was.

Since Levi could tell that Erwin was trying to encourage him, he shrugged. "Yeah. Sure. Whatever." He sank heavily down on to the sofa, arms draped over the back of it. He slowly tilted his head back lazily to give Erwin a piercing look. "No judging."

"No judging," his new teacher promised, grabbing a notebook and pen before taking the seat beside him and positioning himself so he could look over his shoulder. "Here, if you want to write anything down. Ready to start? You don’t have to call me Mr Smith.”

"And I fucking won't," Levi muttered, flicking through the pages of preamble in the book.

He saw the name 'Cleo' in the opening sentence, and it took him a second to identify it. Then with a sigh, he started, persevering through his self-consciousness.

"A week ago, Cleo would never have... predicted that she'd summon a demon. In fact, she would have laughed and thought of the first draft article she’d write about it."

His reading pace was unfaltering but slow and Erwin found himself sinking happily into the sofa cushions, his body growing less tense. Despite being about demons he had a feeling this book was going to be pretty tame and inoffensive.

"Her blog was called..." Levi frowned, staring at it, then gestured to the word. It was completely alien to him. Erwin leaned over and laughed at the name.

"_Paracynic_. It's not even a real word, so it doesn’t count. Would you have recognised 'paranormal', do you think?" Fully invested in playing at teacher, Erwin picked up the notebook and wrote the word down, letting Levi scrutinise it.

"I could guess how to say it, but I don't know what it means."

“It means other-worldly things,” Erwin explained, taking his teacher status very seriously. “Like ghosts, or demons... that sort of nonsense.”

“Oh.” Levi found his place in the book again. "Every weekend she wrote a new article based on something she tried, and she'd tried an awful lot of things. Palm reading...?" 

His voice trailed off into a question. He knew the words, but didn't know what ‘palm reading’ meant together. There were some more unknowns approaching. He pointed at the page impatiently, finger jabbing repeatedly. "What the fuck is this? And this?"

Erwin held out his hand, gesturing for his student to do the same, then placed his fingertip on the Levi’s palm and drew it gently along the lines. “Palm reading, as if you can tell a fortune this way...” 

“Oh.” Levi watched Erwin drawing along the palm of his hand, then quickly withdrew it. It felt too gentle to be real.

Erwin glanced down the page to see what other words had caught Levi out.

“This word is tarot, and that is ouija,” he said. “Tarot is a deck of cards used to tell fortunes, and ouija is... a kind of board game, the one you use to get messages from the dead or spirits, something like that.”

Levi was sure he’d seen one in a horror movie once. “I’ve heard of that one. But... tarot?” he repeated it softly, looking at the word again. “It should be ta-rrot. Like carrot.” He frowned, annoyed by the unpredictability. This was why learning always got on his nerves.

“I never thought of that before,” Erwin admitted. “Like a lot of words in English, it actually comes from… I think a French origin. So sometimes pronunciations seem strange.” Unable to resist, he picked up his phone and Googled it. “Yes - French or Italian.” He looked satisfied to have found out something new, and smiled a little wider.

Levi wasn’t sharing his enthusiasm, already pointing at another difficult word. He looked slightly downcast. It was difficult, and he was doing even worse than he expected.

“Ah psychic! That’s another tough one, a strange-looking selection of letters, but it’s from Greek. A psychic is someone who claims to be able to… use abilities, like telepathy, mind reading or such-”

“Yeah, I get it,” Levi interrupted, somewhat moodily. He knew what they were, but he would never have spelled the word with a ‘p’.

Erwin frowned at the expression on Levi’s face. “Don’t worry - you’ll pick this up quickly. And these are unusual words, so don’t feel disheartened. Once you start to notice the patterns of letters and sounds, you’ll be able to make good guesses. In fact, the next word you’re not sure about I’d like you to try and see if you can pronounce it.”

It seemed like he was having a good time, so Levi continued despite his low morale.

“...she considered psychics to be scam artists.” The next few sentences were easy enough and reassured him a little. It described the character finding an old tome that supposedly detailed how to summon dark creatures. Levi wasn’t certain but from context he figured a tome must be a type of book.

“The book described what a…” He hesitated. “Is that… ‘vengeance’?” It didn’t look quite right, but he knew the word, and it seemed to make sense in context.

“...What a vengeance demon was…” He stumbled again. “A - leg - oh, allegedly. Right?”

He read ahead, voice inflecting now and then with uncertainty. Erwin made soft noises of encouragement as he proceeded, and thought that when he tried to guess a word he did a reasonably good job of figuring it out. He wanted him to feel more confident, and so he deliberately let Levi take the lead now, just giving the occasional comment or correction in the gentlest voice. The chapter went on to describe the main character, a young woman, testing a ritual with the full intention of proving that there was no such thing as demons.

“It wasn't so funny when the drop of blood hit the floor. Cleo was thrown off her feet as a crackle of lightning lit up the room, her back cracking… painfully... as she landed hard onto the floor… The candles seemed to be screaming as their flames danced and the air seemed thicker and heavier. When her dazed viz… vision returned, she thought she could see someone standing in the circle.”

He looked up at Erwin with a scathing look. “...Very dramatic.” His expression, coupled with the deadpan tone, made Erwin chuckle.

“I’m about 90 percent sure that whoever this is in the circle, they’re going to end up hooking up with Cleo,” he said, quite enjoying the experience of sharing jokes over this clichéd book. It reminded him of watching terrible movies with Mike, the kinds that were so bad they were good. “I suppose teen books are all a bit like this. I didn’t read any - I was reading my Dad’s books at seven, which were mostly classic literature.”

"...tch, of course you were." Levi muttered. He could imagine a prissy little version of Erwin reading Shakespeare and whatever-the-fuck else constituted classic literature at the age of six. In Levi's imagination he was wearing a ridiculously old-fashioned schoolboy outfit and was just a shorter version of the man in front of him. "Don't judge me," Erwin said with a laugh, once again struck by the ease he felt with his new company. Levi just suppressed a smile at the odd mental image and returned to the book.

"The demon folded his arms, tilting his head. Cleo examined him closely. His hair was long and dark, the opp... _opposite_ of her own blonde curls, and his pitch black eyes were staring at her. "Six hundred years," he said."

While listening, Erwin accidentally found himself picturing Levi as the demon just because of the dark hair. Somehow despite his stature it was easy to imagine him as an intimidating figure. Meanwhile Levi was frowning in confusion over the final line, until the oven timer startled him.

His fingers squeezed tight around the book, knuckles turning white, and that instant readiness for action was another reminder to Erwin of their earlier conversation. Here was a man who expected the worst at any moment. Levi’s split-second of fear wasn’t the most revealing thing; it was his lack of reaction to it. He didn’t even realise he was behaving unusually. It was normal to him that any sound could be a warning.

It was enough to cause a pang of pity in Erwin, but then the smell from the oven replaced it with a pang of hunger instead.

"How does it look?" Erwin asked. Levi was eyeing it suspiciously. He had followed the recipe to the letter, but he was still oddly nervous. He attributed that to the fact that he rarely had company and didn't want to look like a fool in front of anyone. "It's done."

Erwin's impatience, though politely expressed, had obviously grown since he started cooking, so he cut a sizeable amount out for him. Even once he took his own, there was still a fair amount left. In hindsight, it was obviously far too much for two people.

"If it's bad then you'll have oven pizzas and ready meals every night from now on," he threatened, awkwardly handing Erwin a plate. By now, the blond wasn't sure he would have cared how it tasted, and even with the large amount Levi dished up to him he felt he could eat twice as much. 

"Thank you Levi," he said. "It looks great, and I'll give you a score out of ten when I'm done eating."

He winked, making Levi furrow his brow in confusion. It was beyond comprehension how the cop split his personality. The chief of police was stiff, aggressive and manipulative, twisting him into knots with his stupid mind games just to shake information out of him. And then there was this blond... dork. It clicked as soon as his mind latched onto that word. _Dork._ Erwin was a bit of a dork. With his stupid lunchbox and his classic literature and his esoteric trivia knowledge.

Oblivious to Levi’s thoughts, Erwin was happily taking a few bites before stopping to nod. "It's good! Better than all my microwave meals and sandwiches."

Levi couldn’t exactly judge anyone's reliance on microwave meals and sandwiches. He was guilty of making the quickest, easiest thing and retreating to the safety of his room. Though he much preferred to cook properly, it wasn't worth the risk of running into someone. He noticed that Erwin's appetite was better than his, too.

"Even a week ago I wouldn't have thought the next meal I had cooked for me would be by you," Erwin said, voicing his thoughts after a lot of silent musing.

"...I didn't think I'd be cooking for _anyone_."

"Because you thought you'd be arrested and charged?" asked Erwin. "Or because your usual routine is to hide away from everyone?"

"Even if I wasn't arrested." Levi couldn't recall if he had ever cooked for another person before. Not intentionally, anyway. He kept leftovers for Kenny sometimes, but even that had been years, and they often went in the bin because his uncle took a day or more to return.

Erwin didn't know how much Levi actually managed to avoid Kenny, but Armin reported that he always tried to be at whichever house was the emptiest, and that his activities were limited. He hadn’t even found anyone that Levi could call a friend. That jogged his memory about some of Armin’s other reports.

"There is one thing," he added. "You used to go to the library quite a lot. What did you do there...?" Erwin tried to phrase it delicately, but he assumed Levi was not spending that time reading.

Levi glowered at him. Obviously he had been trailed by Erwin’s private investigator, and he was annoyed that he'd never noticed at the time.

"If Kenny or his people were bothering me, I'd go there for peace and quiet." It was the only free place he could think of going, and it was easy to take a pencil and paper and kill some time. "And I _did_ read sometimes. I'd be totally illiterate if I hadn't."

The idea of Levi sitting in a library to get away from chaos was bittersweet; Erwin had such fondness for libraries that he enjoyed the idea of it being a safe place for someone in need. In his imagination he pictured a disgruntled Levi, walking through the rain on a dark street, stepping into a brightly-lit, warm and quiet library.

"It's only a shame you can't have tea in a library," he said, eyes glassy from the daydream, unknowingly voicing a complaint Levi had often thought himself over those years.

"I used to beg my Dad to take me to the library every weekend, to take back one pile and exchange for another pile. I still always ended up choosing books from the adult sections though, and a lot of non-fiction, especially history and science.”

Levi pictured the same Erwin as before, wearing some Victorian schoolboy outfit, struggling to carry home a stack of books bigger than him.

“What kind of books did you read?" the officer asked, innocently unaware of Levi's caricature.

"Ones with pictures." Levi stared at Erwin menacingly, as if daring him to mock the answer. When it didn't come, he elaborated. "Because I used to draw. Then I found a book about drawing." Levi didn't know why, but it hadn't even occurred to him that people might write books about drawing. He knew about fiction, and he knew there were encyclopaedias and dictionaries, but he had never delved into non-fiction books on other subjects.

From the book on drawing, he found others about painting, and sculptures, and pottery. Then he found some history books that had old paintings in them, of pale kings and queens with ornate outfits and dark eyes staring out of the frames. Some books were too complicated and he had to put them back, but he ended up with a patchwork knowledge of odd subjects.

"Ah, of course!" Erwin smiled at the idea, adding a stack of artist books and paper and pencils to his mental image of Levi in the library. He imagined him poring through the pages of a book of Da Vinci sketches, or maybe an instruction book of how to draw people, or classic pieces of art by Van Gogh, Liechtenstein or Monet...

He pushed away his empty plate, very happy with everything he'd eaten, and hummed softly, looking at Levi with a tilt to his head.

"Could you draw me?" he asked curiously.

“I… I don’t know.” Levi answered in a mumble, suddenly sheepish. He didn’t like to think what would happen if he tried, and Erwin thought he looked ugly. Levi happened to think the cop was annoyingly handsome, in a black and white movie star kind of way, and he didn’t know if he could get that across. Erwin was somewhat softer than Levi, his features a little broader and brighter. If Levi ever tried to use himself as a reference, he needed a sharp, sketchy pencil to manage all the thin lines and angular edges. With Erwin, he would need a softer edge.

“We’ll see,” he said eventually. Silently he decided he would try it, but Erwin definitely wasn’t going to see the first few attempts.


	37. Chess (24th August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin updates Levi after a day of investigating Kenny's list of victims.

Petra looked up from her desk to the chief, then back at the clock, then back at the chief. It was only 17:03. Normally, Erwin was here when she started her shift, and still here when she left. She didn’t even think he had scheduled hours anymore.

“You’re leaving?” she asked incredulously. “I thought you lived here.” 

Jean sniggered, chin resting on his fingers as he mocked. “He does, we just unplug him at the end of the day.”

Erwin put a hand flat on his chest, feigning offence. “I would describe my dedication as legendary, Kirstein, not amusing.”

Settling his hands on the desk, Oluo leaned over towards Erwin knowingly. “Must be a hot date to drag you away from the station on time, hmm?”

It earned him a disparaging look. “Sorry to disappoint. I’m trying to improve my work-life balance, that’s all.”

They bid him goodbye, but with telling smirks that showed they all secretly believed in Oluo’s ‘hot date’ theory.

During the drive home, and even as Erwin climbed the stairs to his apartment, he reflected on the difference these few short days had made. He hadn’t been prepared with a cover story because he didn’t know his team paid so much attention to his comings and goings. He could hardly tell them that he needed to keep an eye on the criminal witness he was secretly harbouring. Everyone within the station thought Levi had been arrested, to avoid Kenny’s spy reporting back. Only the chief superintendents would know that he was in a safehouse, and even that was a lie. Luckily, the only Chief who was likely to snoop around was Nile, and Erwin hadn’t heard from him yet. That was a small blessing.

Frankly, it wasn’t even true that Erwin felt the need to keep Levi on lockdown; by now he was sure that Levi wasn’t going to flee, no matter when he returned. So why was he leaving on time?

He pressed snooze on that thought, breezing through the door in a very upbeat mood. This time he could see Levi on the sofa ahead of him, and greeted him cheerfully. Upon hearing the click of the key, Levi had flipped his borrowed sketchbook over to the front, hiding his proper sketches and turning to a page of simple doodles and practice pieces instead.

“Hey. How was cop duty?”

Erwin set about his usual routine, taking off his worn leather shoes and placing them neatly on the doormat, where they dwarfed Levi’s old, but meticulously cleaned brogues. He noticed the low buzz and golden glow of the oven, realising Levi was already in the process of cooking. For a moment, he was tempted to ask what he was making, but instead he opted to keep it a surprise. After living alone and cooking for himself for so many years, he had never had the novelty of not knowing what was coming. Besides, he had more important things to discuss, news that had been burning on his mind since the mid-afternoon.

“It was an excellent day… We found the machine - the washing machine.”

Levi stared up at him, taking a second to catch his breath. He knew exactly what Erwin was talking about, but hadn’t been optimistic about the police really finding anything.

“And she's in there?” Levi’s own voice sounded far away, even to himself. He had wondered whether Kenny even ditched his victim in the washing machine or whether he and Duran had taken her out of it first. And he had no idea what state a body would be in after ten years' exposure, but it wasn’t going to be good.

Erwin, by contrast, was wearing a big wide smile. “Yes! I can hardly believe how lucky we have been, but the machine didn't seem to have been disturbed or noticed at all.”

“Well... everyone ditches their shit there. It's basically a dump site.” Levi wasn’t so surprised that the washing machine hadn’t been moved; nothing was ever moved from Drizzle Ditch. A second later, he cringed, remembering that it was his idea to put an actual human body in a place he was now describing as a dump site.

“It wasn't exactly pretty, but I can't deny... it means a lot to the case.”

Levi squinted in obvious displeasure, but tried to focus on what was important. “So... any chance it can be linked back to Kenny?”

The officer took in a deep breath. “Well… I feel hopeful either way, with your testimony leading to us finding it. Consider this a big win.” He checked himself, adding a little caution. “But we will have to see what Hanji says after all the tests.”

“What’s Hanji…?” Levi repeated it slowly, wondering if this was a company, organisation, or department acronym or something. Cops practically spoke a secret language and Erwin was no different. His phone calls with Mike were littered with jargon that only another cop would understand. Levi had started tuning them out.

“Ah, that’s Dr Zoe - my forensic pathologist. It’s Hanji Zoe.”

In hindsight, Levi suspected now that he had seen that name on the paperwork they had examined, but it was too unusual and he couldn’t read it.

“She handles our autopsies, and gets involved in a lot of our DNA testing too,” Erwin explained. “Sometimes I think she can’t help herself. She’s…” 

He hesitated as he tried to choose his words carefully. “Enthusiastic. You should have heard her on the phone when I told her about the find.” Tilting his head, Erwin rubbed his ear theatrically. “My hearing will never recover. And then she insisted on coming down to the site in person, to see the... extraction.”

Levi looked blankly at Erwin, not really understanding the significance of this statement. “Is a doctor supposed to be there when you do that?” As soon as he said it, it felt like a stupid question. How could there be rules on how to extract a corpse from a washing machine after it had spent a decade in a ditch?

Erwin just shook his head. “No, there was no reason for Hanji to be there. Apart from… what did she call it?” His gaze raised to the ceiling as he tried to remember. “Ah - professional curiosity. That was it.”

“...Creepy.”

The blond laughed, thinking this was probably how all strangers felt about Hanji, but knowing her in person was quite different. “It certainly wouldn’t be my choice of career, but I’m glad she’s so good at it.”

As Erwin set about hanging up his jacket and changing out of his uniform, Levi decided to offer him one of the newly-purchased teas, even though it felt a bit presumptuous when this wasn’t his house and none of this was his property.

He confronted the cop with the tin, holding out the mocha chai mix as soon as Erwin emerged from the bedroom. He had picked it because of Erwin's coffee addiction, but didn’t confess as much. “Have you tried this yet?”

Erwin leaned down, squinting as he read the ingredients. “No, but I'd love to try it. Mocha chai... it sounds like my kind of thing. I'm impressed by your tea knowledge.”

He followed Levi to the kitchen, watching him, thinking of excuses to speak to him some more. “Were you drawing when I came in?”

“Just doodling.” Levi’s back was turned, making himself busy and avoiding eye contact. He had tried a couple of more complicated sketches, mostly using people he found on Erwin's TV guide as references, but he wasn’t going to invite anyone to look at them.

Erwin had no such doubts. “Will you show me?” he asked brightly, curious. “I'd be glad to see that my little notebook came in useful. _I_ certainly wasn’t getting any use out of it. Besides, I don’t want you to be bored all day.”

Thinking of no good reason to refuse, Levi gestured towards the sketchbook, glad that he had left it on his draft page rather than anything else. “It's open.”

Erwin peered over the edge of the sofa at the book. It showed just a few practice eyes, hands in various poses, and a very faint pencil sketch of an aging man, copied from the actor on the front of the TV guide, but he still found himself impressed.

“I couldn't get hands to look like this if I tried! And my people all look like stick figures. You're good, Levi…”

The other man was facing away, mumbling sheepishly at Erwin's compliment, uncertain what to say. He was reading the back of the tea tin, ostensibly to see how many minutes this blend took to steep, but truthfully to avoid looking praise in the face.

Seeing that the coast was clear, Erwin cautiously and silently leaned over, gently lifting the page with his fingertips to see if there was anything else. On the next few pages he glimpsed a few practice sketches, some of which were more actors from the TV guide, and a few of which were obviously attempts at Erwin himself. He recognised himself instantly, and from the pose, it was clearly taken from his graduation photograph. Levi must have taken him at his word when he asked if he would try drawing him after all.

He smiled softly as he let the pages fall, glancing up to see that Levi was still facing away. Choosing to be tactful, he changed the subject.

“By the way, we found Sita's mother today too. You remember, the one you rescued from Kenny when she slapped him in the warehouse?”

Levi turned with a teaspoon still in hand, eyes wide and voice urgent. “Found? Found _how?_” he demanded sharply, picturing her dead and rotting in a ditch next to Faye Scadden’s washing machine.

Answering quickly, Erwin held up his hands at Levi's alarm. “No, no, nothing bad! I mean, we made contact. She's alive and well.”

Levi breathed a sigh of relief but set the spoon down with more force than required, metal clattering against the worktop as he muttered under his breath. “Don't do that.”

“My apologies Levi, I didn't assume you'd think the worst.” Erwin set about consoling him with some better news. “She seems willing to help though. Her name is Jivani.” 

“So you told her what’s going on?”

Erwin shook his head, settling on the sofa. “I haven’t spoken to her personally. When she realised how dire her daughter’s situation was, she transferred her job and moved the whole family to Salisbury, as a last ditch effort to escape Kenny’s clutches. She still lives there now.” He stretched out his long legs, cramped after an arduous desk day. “I couldn’t make that kind of journey. It’s four hours each way.”

“Can’t leave your criminal alone, huh?” Levi muttered, darkly looking over his shoulder and giving Erwin an accusing look. While being alone in a comfortable flat wasn’t that bad, there was still something patronising about being supervised. He was right, but Erwin didn’t dare say so.

“Of course not,” the officer lied, an innocuous look on his face. “But I’m the Chief of Police. I’m needed at the station.”

It seemed to convince Levi, so he continued. “I sent Mike, but I left the station before he returned. I’ll know better once he reports in. If Jivani will give us some more details, then that’s another string to my bow against A… Kenny.”

He quickly corrected himself. He and Mike were accustomed to discussing the ‘case against Ackerman’, but it seemed insensitive now that he was living with a second Ackerman.

Returning to the living room, Levi quickly set two cups down in front of him before they could burn his fingertips too much.

“So she thinks her daughter's death was sketchy, then...?” 

Erwin was briefly distracted by the unusual way Levi held his cup, noticing it properly for the first time. Quickly, he found himself again. “She does, yes. It sounds like she always did.”

He waited for Levi to settle in the chair near him, then told the rest of the story. “She said she found out her daughter was prostituting, found her unconscious more than once… she put Suhana in an expensive private rehab, but when she called to check on her, they said she had quit weeks ago.”

Levi was listening, transfixed by Erwin’s words. It hit even harder because it was only two years ago, and he had met the mother in person, however briefly.

“She tracked her daughter down, dragged her home, somehow got Kenny’s name and paid him that visit at the warehouse. After he pulled a knife on her, she decided not to take any more chances, and set about leaving the city. And she did take Suhana away, but… eleven days later, she found her.”

Erwin spared Levi the gruesome details of Suhana’s overdose, which had been relayed to him over the phone with the tone of heartbreak that only a parent could possess. Her account of that day, her reciting of every detail, was so vivid that Erwin could tell Jivani had relived it a thousand times.

Since Levi had told the story of Mrs Sita slapping Kenny in the face and nearly paying the ultimate price, Erwin _knew_ her daughter had to be a murder victim. She may have been a troubled drug user, and she may have died 200 miles away from Kenny’s base of operations, but to overdose so soon after her mother confronted Kenny… that was more than coincidence.

Then he remembered the rest of Jivani’s words, and couldn’t help but chuckle.

“She’s not scared of your uncle, though. A fierce lady it seems. And she's also not stupid. After Suhana’s death, she stayed there, out of reach, with her husband and two younger boys. And they kept quiet all this time.”

Levi imagined her like Erwin, silently collecting data on her daughter’s death the same way that Erwin did for his father. He was glad that Kenny didn't get to this woman. There was no doubt in his mind that his uncle was fully prepared to stab her in the warehouse that day, and rack up another kill.

Life always felt so fragile when he reflected on these strange coincidences. If he’d had a different shift that day, if he had been sick, if he had gone down to the parcel bay at that exact moment, those two boys would be missing a mother as well as a sister. How could life or death matters hinge on such delicate details?

His reverie was broken by Erwin’s words, spoken in a tone of wonder. “This tea smells amazing! Thank you.”

Levi tried to pull a coherent response out of his jumbled mind. “It has caffeine. But not as much as coffee.”

It was too hot to take a sip, especially on a blazing day of sunshine like today, so Erwin placed it back down on the counter, eyeing it with impatience.

“Best not make me another tonight then,” he said. Levi seemed to have an almost mystical tolerance to caffeine, but Erwin was easily affected by it.

For a moment his smile stayed in place, and he was lost in pleasant thoughts of how nice this all was. It felt like a domestic life he would have seen someone else living, but not himself. By contrast, the look on Levi’s face was not one of peace, but deep-seated concern.

“Is... everything alright?” he pried gently.

“Sure. Yeah.” Levi answered nonchalantly. He moved to lounge sideways on the armchair with his hand lazily draped in front of his face, just enough to obscure some of his expression. “Weird day. I didn't really think you would find Scadden.”

“Lucky we did, really.” Erwin felt the familiar hope that had let him down so often; every time he got his hands on some evidence against Kenny, he was practically fuelled by optimism, only to have it dashed within weeks or even days. This whole investigation had been a rollercoaster ride. 

“Still,” he continued, “I won't lie to you - it’s still going to be tough to get something to stick.”

“No shit. It’s _Kenny_.”

“I’ve never had such good leads, though,” Erwin countered, determined to see the bright side. “I don't think I would have got anything close to this without your help. Faye Scadden's body, the fact it was where you said, in the washing machine... that goes such a long way…”

Hung up on the fact that this was only Kenny’s second murder, Levi was filling with regret again. He would hate himself forever if the washing machine was enough to convict Kenny, and he had never reported it. He finally voiced the thought that was haunting him.

“Do you think I could have got Kenny arrested? If I'd come and said something sooner?”

Erwin was surprised by the question and had to think for a moment in order to give an honest answer.

“I can see why you would say that. But there are so many times I thought I had him cornered, and I didn’t. And then what would have happened to you?”

He received a puzzled frown and a subtle little nod of the head, as if Levi was demanding further explanation.

“Well… if he got away with it, you would have been in danger and without anywhere to go, right? Kenny would have known you reported him.”

“Oh.” Levi frowned, finger circling the top of his cup. “That's not what I was worried about. I just thought I'd get the blame somehow.”

He knew his DNA would be all over Scadden, and the house was his as well as Kenny’s. If the pair accused each other, he thought Kenny would come out looking better. He’d probably have managed to get himself an alibi, or at least a witness who would swear that Levi was the one with the knife.

“Then I'd be in jail and Kenny would be free anyway,” he finished sadly.

“Frankly, your Uncle's track record for being able to twist things suggests that was a reasonable concern.”

Erwin thought back to when he questioned Levi over the most recent murders, the ones for which he was currently ‘under arrest’. Petra had conducted the interview with Kenny, but Erwin had heard the tapes, and the way Kenny skilfully put pieces in place to make Levi sound guilty.

“I wouldn't say he's a mastermind,” the blond mused aloud, “but he knows how to get people to lie and cover for him. And that's all he's needed in the past.”

Erwin’s face suddenly darkened, eyes distant as he turned his thoughts towards the most troubling part of this investigation. “And not that you knew it, but Kenny has always had someone on the force disrupting any investigation upon him, turning our attention elsewhere. If I had to go on gut instinct, I’d say that reporting him would have landed you in jail over Scadden, not him.”

He gave Levi an apologetic look, not enjoying the thought of this alternate reality where Levi was in prison - especially if it was the fault of a corrupt police officer who he, as the chief, had still failed to find.

Levi, on the other hand, preferred that answer. It was better than thinking that he could have reported Kenny after murder two, instead of waiting around to be framed for murder twenty-something.

“I know how he gets all his alibis and cover-ups from his group,” Levi said. “He’s not _that_ stupid. He knows your people would promise witness protection, so threats of violence aren't enough.”

He cradled the cup of tea in his hands as he tried to imagine the mindset of someone running a criminal empire. It was hard to imagine why anyone would want to do such a thing. “Takes more than that to keep everyone in check.”

Erwin had started to notice that he had about an hour of Levi being talkative after work. Apparently his guest was so bored of silence by that time, that he was keen for conversation. Soon enough it wore off and his guest became unyielding again. He decided to draw out anything he could during this golden opportunity.

“What would you say he uses to control them, if not threats?” Erwin suspected the answer was ‘drug supply’, but Levi offered more.

“There's people like Uri, Caven, Duran... 'inner circle', I guess. Kenny trusts them, even if they’re not big purchasers. But whenever he needs a favour from anyone else, he picks a heavy heroin user.”

Erwin was nodding, clearly following along. “Heroin’s a hard drug to quit.”

“Yeah. If he cuts their supply he's got them in the palm of his hand,” Levi continued. He had seen it happen. “Some drugs you can just quit. And you’ll have a shitty time, but heroin? Going cold turkey on heroin can kill you.”

Although Erwin had seen enough of the effects of drugs, he hadn’t quite made the connection that heroin withdrawal could be fatal. Kenny’s grip on such a large group of drug users had always seemed tenuous, and Erwin couldn’t understand how they had all stayed so loyal. Now it was obvious. This wasn’t a case of following Kenny just to get your high; it was more like _obey or die_. It was enough to send a chill down his spine, even after all these years on the force.

“So if he stops selling… their lives are really at risk.”

“Definitely.” Levi wondered if Kenny had set it up intentionally, or if he just stumbled into such a good chokehold by accident. “And you’ve got no hope going to little local sellers... Kenny's getting a cut from all of them, or he's the one supplying them in the first place. If you're a junkie in this half of the country, and you want your fix, Kenny's got to like you.”

Erwin pulled a concerned expression. “You think his reach is that wide?”

Levi nodded resolutely, without a doubt in his mind. “Yeah. If someone offends him, he blacklists them. Gets on the phone to all his minions, telling them not to sell to this person. And no small time drug dealer is going to fuck with Kenny by selling to a blacklisted guy.”

He thanked his lucky stars again that he wasn’t an addict. Fortune hadn’t done Levi many favours, but that was something to be grateful for.

Erwin’s mind was racing, making connections. “And Mayrah’s party, the Carl Homewood murder... I had 56 people all giving Kenny a matching alibi. Do you think they’re all heroin addicts?”

“Addicts or dealers. Yeah. I’d be surprised if they weren’t.”

Erwin wondered if everyone in that group would still be loyal to Ackerman; surely not. Surely someone would crack, would see that Kenny’s ship was sinking… maybe one of them had even gotten clean since the party and would be prepared to retract their statement. He had already re-opened Homewood’s file during his working day, but he would redouble his efforts to contact that list of 56 witnesses tomorrow.

More importantly, he was three steps ahead of that and now looking down the barrel of another looming crisis. His main priority was getting Kenny put away for murder, but now he was faced with the aftermath of removing his empire. How many heroin addicts in the city would be undergoing sudden withdrawals? How many of those would die? If he had to let an unknown number of addicts die, just to get rid of Kenny, would he take it?

Deep down, he knew the answer was yes. He looked at Levi, who was gazing out of the window, deep in thought, unaware of Erwin’s machinations. He could just imagine how disappointed Levi would be if he knew the cold-blooded sacrifice that Erwin was contemplating.

But he could at least try to stem the damage. He resolved to speak to Hanji and see if she had a medical contact who could help him with a good methadone program. It would take a huge amount of funding, and drug prescription programs didn’t come from the police. The city made those decisions. He could already see himself visiting them, cap in hand, begging for handouts.

He sighed, realising what a sad life most of the addicts in the city had been condemned to, through a mixture of Kenny’s profiteering, Shadis’ lack of sympathy, and whoever Kenny’s police spy was.

Every time Erwin thought of one issue, it seemed as if another three issues were leaning upon it. It was like a game where removing one problem could lose you everything. He couldn’t just arrest Kenny; he had to structurally weaken him, bit by bit, before finally taking the King piece. It was tiring, but he felt the endgame was finally near.

He had no desire to share these burdens with Levi, who was already taking on enough. Instead he sipped at his tea, and did his best to compartmentalise all of his scheming. It should wait until tomorrow.

“Good choice, Levi. I like this a lot! Clearly your years of going to the teashop have given you an expertise in the stuff.” He was only half-teasing.

“Yep. The one thing I do know about.” Levi found himself enjoying the chai as well; the coffee taste wasn't too strong and the spicy cinnamon was unusual.

“Hardly the one thing…” Erwin protested, frowning at the way Levi minimised himself again. He gestured at the sketchbook, giving the other man a meaningful look. “And your cleaning is as thorough as any professional.”

Levi shifted awkwardly, saying nothing.

”Don't make me like having you here - I won't want you leave.” Erwin laughed heartily, eyes crinkling, with a warmth in his voice that suggested he might not be joking. Levi didn’t know how to respond, still feeling like a weird lower-class invader in Erwin's clean law-abiding life.

He rolled his eyes sarcastically. “Yeah, and that would really clash with all those other places I'll be going.”

It made the cop laugh again, realising how much he enjoyed Levi's dry sense of humour. He was sure that Levi had no idea how little time he had spent laughing on the sofa before taking him in. When he regained some semblance of control, he continued more seriously.

“I hope you'll stay as long as you wish. I mean, this is your safehouse, and as long as you're safer here than out there, I insist you remain. As Chief of Police, I cannot have it any other way, you understand. Not until Kenny is where he belongs.”

“You're pretty optimistic about that happening…” Levi scrutinised Erwin’s expression. “Why?”

“Why shouldn’t I be? This is the best chance I’ve had at winning.”

_“Winning?”_ Levi raised an eyebrow, obviously unimpressed. “This isn’t chess. This is life and death.”

Erwin looked serious once again. He didn’t need to be reminded of that.

“Even more reason to win.”


	38. Apple Pie (25th August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi and Erwin have a movie night.

With some time left before he had to leave for work, Erwin got up and dressed in his well-pressed uniform, the one thing he always made sure was pristine, and went through to the living room.

"Good morning Levi!" he called cheerfully.

The other man was facing almost completely away from him, his fingertip circling the edge of the teacup as he gazed out of the window. Turning sleepily towards Erwin, he gave him a questioning stare.

"You're cheerful." It was hard to understand Erwin's sunny attitude at the best of times, but especially early in the morning before work. In their first interaction, during his interrogation, Erwin had been so cold, so stiff, and Levi wondered if the chief simply switched off all his humanity when he got to the station.

"I have plenty of reasons to be happy - my apartment is cleaner than I thought possible, the case against your Uncle is progressing well, and since I’m on the late shift, I have enough time for breakfast." He decided not to add one lingering thought about having such an attractive man to greet him first thing in the morning; he had a feeling Levi would scoff, and it wasn't very professional of him. "Does my cheery attitude bother you?" he asked instead, a slightly amused look on his face. 

Levi shook his head. It didn't bother him, and he decided Erwin was allowed to be cheerful in his own house.

"Just unexpected.” He decided not to remind him how different their first meeting had been. Just days ago, Erwin had been threatening him with a life sentence. Times had changed.

It had been an interrupted night of sleep for Levi, and he knew why. He had told himself a thousand times that today shouldn’t mean anything to him, but it didn’t stop his thoughts from spiralling faster and faster. Working with Erwin had already forced him to reflect upon the years of missed opportunities, and this was only making it worse.

He glanced up at the detective again, all uniformed and presentable, and to his surprise, found himself wishing that it was Erwin’s day off. The officer was making himself some coffee and toast, calling through to Levi as he peered down.

"You even got all the crumbs out of the toaster! You're some kind of miracle."

An uneasy look crossed Levi’s face. He couldn't recall the last time anyone had said anything good about him. "It's just cleaning," he tutted, rolling his eyes. "You should try it once in a while."

Erwin chuckled lightly. “Want anything?” he asked, gesturing at the wrapped loaf of bread. Levi silently declined with a wave of his hand.

"I admit I much prefer the place looking like this," the blond continued as he brought his coffee and toast through to the table in the living room. Observing Levi, he secretly noted the line of his jaw and the way his hand held the cup so lightly around the edge. It was a strange habit that had struck him once before, but now he had the opportunity to inquire.

"Why do you do that?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him. "With the cup. I've never seen anyone hold them like that before. Doesn't it burn your fingers?" 

Levi looked at his own hand. He should have expected such strange observations from a detective, but it was odd being examined like this. Usually there wasn't anyone around to notice his habits.

"Handles break easily," he said vaguely. He tried not to picture his mother’s beautiful teacup, but the mental image pierced through the mists of time against his will and took over his thoughts, lying shattered on the ground. If today hadn't already been a day for memories, it was now.

His fingertips trembled and he put the cup down, looking away. The image was burned in his mind, how his eyes had been glazed with unshed tears as he swept up the pieces, nothing left to him but large shards of ivory china, the last remnants he would ever possess. He was fragile today, and he hated having a witness, especially one so keen-eyed.

"Go to work already," he whispered shakily into the back of his hand.

The reaction to what seemed such a simple question startled and intrigued Erwin. He blinked once or twice before he spoke again.

"I've said something to upset you," he said. "I apologise. You seem tired too - perhaps you didn't sleep well because of yesterday’s… find?" Erwin had found his own thoughts wandering back to Driscoll Drive, the washing machine standing like some obscene gravestone, what looked like rust seeping from the cracks. It was enough to unnerve a seasoned police officer.

But Levi didn't turn, resolutely fixating his gaze out of the window, steams of sunlight piercing through the blinds. Wherever he looked, he felt unsettlingly transparent.

"I never sleep well," he confessed. He didn't know the exact reason. After dark was when his mother brought people home, and he had always been afraid of that. Nightmares plagued him most evenings, enough to rob sleep of any peace. He was never relaxed enough to settle. Being alone every night, having committed his own litany of crimes, with a mad uncle who had access to his home... none of those allowed a person to feel safe. To make matters worse, Kenny simply couldn't stop making new enemies, as if he didn’t have enough already. Levi trusted his ability to defend himself, but he wasn’t superhuman. Sleeping was a moment of vulnerability he couldn't afford.

"But you seem especially perturbed over the question about the cup," Erwin insisted. It was dangerous ground but he was eager to know what secret lay behind this response.

Levi made a low growling noise, body stiffening in an obvious warning sign. "I don't want to break anything, is that so hard to believe?" His voice was terse.

Internally, Erwin winced. He had pushed it too far. He felt like his own worst enemy sometimes.

"No," he conceded. "That is not hard to believe." He continued his breakfast without speaking, not risking any more offence.

"Is there anything you want me to do while you're gone?" Levi asked eventually, after several minutes of stunted, awkward silence.

Erwin shook his head. "I couldn't ask more of you - you have cleaned my entire apartment, you are helping me with the case... now you should take some time to relax."

Upon uttering those words, Erwin wondered if he imagined the slightest of disappointed looks, and the closer he looked the more he could see Levi’s exhaustion. He was keen to help, wishing Levi would just be more forthcoming.

"I suppose... you could sort my office? But please, don’t feel obliga--"

"Yeah, okay. I'll be home all day anyway, so..." Levi tried not to show his relief at being given a task to keep his mind busy, but something felt off about lying to Erwin. And he was lying in a sense. He hadn't shared any information with anyone in a long time, and it didn't come easily. But he was staying here and being shielded by this man, despite how undeserving he was, and keeping secrets felt wrong.

"It's my birthday today," he said, casually as he could. He didn't need to fake his bored tone of voice; birthdays had become all but irrelevant for him, having few friends and even fewer family.

Erwin had a quite different reaction, forehead creasing as his eyebrows rose. "Oh! I… I should have known that." He rarely missed such details, and it was bad luck that today was his longest shift. It rattled him so much that he immediately started planning how to make it up to his guest. 

"Why?" Levi frowned right back at him. He could guess that his date of birth was on his records, but he didn't see why Erwin should recall it. “I didn’t even know it myself.”

“You didn’t know what a birthday was?”

“I didn’t know _when_ it was,” Levi mumbled. He had hoped to get away with the bare minimum, but Erwin was managing to give him an interrogating stare despite his mouthful of toast. Levi sighed, reaching out to brush crumbs off Erwin’s knee.

“My mother told me my birthday was Christmas Day.”

The look he got was obviously puzzled. Erwin couldn’t figure out how someone could make a mistake like that. “Why?”

Levi remembered a couple of sunny birthdays, hazy and distant as they were. He used to make daisy chains in the garden and put them on his mother’s head. Then, one year, when the daisies started growing, he had reminded her that he was nearly five.

_No, baby, not yet - your birthday is when Santa visits, remember?_

He’d probably been confused, but it was easily forgotten in his child’s mind. Years later he’d had to sign in somewhere, and the annoying receptionist had insisted they had no record for him. When she searched his name, he found out that he was telling them the wrong date of birth. It was only much later that he guessed the true reason for his mother’s lie.

“Probably because she couldn’t afford to buy two things a year.”

Suddenly the cop looked devastated, but he reined it in quickly once he noticed Levi’s attention snapping towards him.

“Don’t start. Don’t look at me like that.”

Erwin raised his hands in a surrender gesture, falling quiet for a while before answering cautiously.

"I am just sorry that your birthday will be spent staring at the walls of my apartment. What do you usually do..?"

"Stare at the walls of mine.” Levi’s expression softened, becoming slightly wistful. "I don't care for birthdays," he added, made uncomfortable by Erwin's pity.

Erwin recalled his own birthdays. Sometimes alone, with a good movie and a tub of stracciatella ice cream. Other times out for a drink with Mike and some of the others on the force. But never _nothing._

His mind raced with ideas. There were ways to mark an occasion without a fuss. He considered that his own guilt at holding Levi here played a part in his desire to give him a pleasant birthday, but he decided he didn't mind. It didn't change the facts.

"Well," he said, steepling his fingers. "What's your favourite food?” He immediately threw Levi a warning expression, looking like a stern teacher. “Do _not_ say plain rice again."

"I’m not having a birthday. I'm not a child." The only reason this day even mattered to Levi was because it meant he was getting even older. Erwin wouldn't get it. He was all set up for life, with a career and a home. Levi's hopes of doing that were dying with every passing year. 

"I don’t think you would ever forgive me if I threw a _party_," Erwin said with a smile. "But would it be so bad to have your favourite food to eat tonight, and… we’ll do anything you like. Watch a movie? Sit in silence drinking tea?" He chuckled. "Going over files and dredging up the past isn't for birthdays."

"Fine. Whatever," Levi mumbled into his cup. Something about watching a movie with another person, having 'a quiet night in' seemed so domestic and ordinary that it was strange and slightly embarrassing.

"Don't get a cake," he added threateningly, "or I'll pitch it out of your fucking window."

"No birthday cake!" Erwin laughed, though he wasn't entirely sure Levi was joking. "But you _must_ tell me your favourite food."

He downed the last of his coffee and stood up, getting his shoes and coat ready. When he looked back, Levi was looking shifty.

"Is something wrong?"

"This." Levi vaguely gestured at Erwin, the room, the tea. What he meant to say was that it was new and unsettling being in a neat, clean, safe home with a polite and respectful person who gave him treats and didn't belittle him for it. Erwin could surmise that his visitor was struggling with the discordance of leaving his disruptive life to a place like this.

"I hope you'll settle in. Now are you going to choose a favourite food? My file on you is comprehensive but not _that_ comprehensive.”

Levi felt like he was wilting in this situation as Erwin beamed at him, apparently excited for a pseudo-celebration. Secretly he had a request, but it felt very demanding to put that pressure on his host, especially when he had no money himself and was already crashing at his place.

"Apple pie?" he asked eventually, trying not to look too bashful. It was years since he had any, since he mainly lived off practical things and not treats or sugary things like that. But it was definitely better than birthday cake. And if Erwin put candles in it, it was going out the window as well.

There was something endearing about Levi asking for something so simple in such a pained way, and Erwin resolved not to make it any harder for him.

“Apple pie it is. Have a good birthday Levi," he said. "I’m sorry that it’s my late shift, but I’ll leave as soon as I can."

Levi made a sheepish little grunt at the birthday wishes, but gave Erwin a wave goodbye nonetheless. He knew he would end up watching the clock during the day, counting towards having company again. That was the first sign that his world had tipped upside down.

\------------

Erwin's work day went by quickly. He was very much looking forward to getting home and spending Levi's birthday with him, unable to stop picturing the man alone in his apartment all day, bored and isolated. But first he had to think of a perfect gift that he could buy on the way home from work, somewhere he could get a good apple pie from, and something they could do tonight - all that in between his day job, which was busier than ever with all their new leads.

At least he never joined his colleagues for lunch so no one wondered why he spent that time searching for apple pies and gift ideas. It was bad enough that Mike caught him microwaving leftovers and asked if he had finally taken up cooking for himself. And the whole station seemed surprised all over again when he left work on time for a second day, saying good evening to everyone as he flew out of the building to his car, leaving them to their banter.

He had it all planned with military precision. He could make the bakery with time to spare but then would have to hurry - his chosen clothing store wasn't far, and he'd get a gift box and vanilla ice cream from the supermarket. Ice cream was aisle 8 and gift cards were aisle 12. If he used the self-checkout he could be done in ten minutes at most.

By the time he stepped in the door, the only thing that had gone wrong was that his hair had gotten a little skewed in the wind and he'd dropped his keys in the lobby. All in all, he was feeling pleased with himself as he opened the door to the flat, black gift box in one hand with an apple pie balanced on top and a tub of ice cream under his arm.

Levi had been checking the clock more frequently when he expected Erwin's return. The office had been dutifully organised, and hopefully its owner would still know where to find everything. All the files were alphabetical, there wasn't a single remaining speck of dust, and he'd even found a much forgotten coffee cup behind the curtain that practically required disinfecting.

He hadn't resisted the lure of looking into Erwin's files, although lots of it had already been shared. He found the file on Kenny, and there was plenty in that. Some of it was new information to Levi, and others were rumours he could confirm. The more of Erwin's research he found, the more he started to believe that they really might be able to clear his name and put Kenny behind bars. The man's dedication and attention to detail were astounding; he would have been mystified by Erwin’s tenacity if he hadn’t learned about Adrian Smith.

There were files for every person of note in Kenny's group, and Levi's heart had raced when he found one with his name on it. There were a few covert photographs of him making ordinary journeys through the shopping centre, to work, back home. It was almost embarrassing to see now. It looked like the work of Erwin's investigator, and he was irritated that he hadn't realised he was being tailed. The file also contained his birth certificate, proof that he’d been born today, as well as his mother's death certificate, and an official record of Levi being placed into Kenny's care instead of taken into the system. Somehow, Erwin even managed to get hold of a couple of school records. They were mostly letters home, saying Levi hadn't been attending. His 'guardian' never replied.

Throughout the file, Erwin's suspicion on Levi seemed to dwindle. In the beginning, there were notes about how he might be selling something or hiding something in the storerooms at the tea shop, but then he seemed to realise that Levi was simply making frequent purchases there. He wrote about Levi's switches between the two houses and that he had been following Kenny, but then at a later date, he noted that Levi was going the opposite direction and avoiding him. _Why do they keep swapping?_, he had underlined. He wondered if Erwin had suspected some grand conspiracy, or if he had eventually deduced that Levi only wanted to be far away from his murderous uncle.

Luckily he had put everything away by the time that jovial voice called from around the corner, so he didn't need to scurry to hide anything. 

"Hello, I'm home!"

Levi poked his head around the corner of the office. "In here. How was work?"

"Fine!" Erwin called back, juggling his items, settling them down on the table. "Oh you did clean up my office! Thank you. And happy birthday!" He pointed to the apple pie and black gift box. "We should eat quickly before this goes cold and this melts." He pointed to the pie and ice cream in turn, smiling as he removed his jacket and tie, looking instantly more relaxed.

"You really got pie...?" Levi spoke distractedly, tucking Erwin's chair back under his desk and coming back into the living room.

"Of course I did!" Erwin replied. "I promised."

Now Levi felt sheepish all over again, so he headed straight through to the kitchen. "Do you want some tea? Or coffee, if you must."

"Too late for coffee! I'll be up for hours. Let’s make it tea again. Can I have that mocha one you gave me yesterday?"

Erwin followed Levi through to the kitchen, eagerly taking plates and cutlery from different drawers and cutting generous slices off pie without giving him a chance to protest.

"You're not going to throw this out the window are you?" He looked up at Levi with a smile, feeling oddly excited at getting to help Levi celebrate his birthday. He didn't expect him to look _thrilled_, but he hoped he might get another rare smile.

Levi spent a few moments examining the pie, folding his arms and scrutinising it closely with the intention of making Erwin nervous. Eventually he looked up at the other man, expression softening. "It can stay." Erwin put his hand on his chest in a theatrical display of relief.

Birthdays were strange to Levi, like being looked at for no good reason, feeling like there was a spotlight on him. He searched his mind for a change of subject. It was tempting to ask about the investigation but Erwin had expressly banned work talk. And he, unlike Levi, had probably dealt with it all day at the station. So he settled on the first thing that occurred to him. "You look like a different man in that uniform."

"I do?" Erwin said with surprise. No one had told him that before, but then he wondered how many people had actually seen him out of work or out of his uniform. "Which do you prefer? Man in uniform or casual edition Erwin?"

"Casual Erwin," Levi said, without a moment of hesitation as he added the milk to the tea. A small amount dripped on the countertop, so he cleaned up as he continued speaking. "Uniform Erwin looks good but he's a dick."

It took a second to register that he'd said that aloud, his mind being preoccupied with the fresh spill on the perfectly shined kitchen. It was honest, but a little too honest. Without much other choice, he kept a straight face, acting as if nothing unusual had happened.

For a moment Erwin thought he had misheard. Then he realised he had not and he laughed, not like his usual chuckle but more full and resonant, throwing his head back as he did.

"You really think he looks good?" he asked, still grinning, but he didn't want to tease Levi too much; not on his birthday.

Levi threw him a disparaging look. "He knows he does," he snipped, rolling his eyes. “Don’t be a dumbass.”

There was no way a guy like Erwin hadn't noticed what he looked like. Levi hadn't realised that the whole 'man in uniform' thing would appeal to him, but he’d caught himself gazing a few times in the last day or two. And Kenny would have a heart attack if he knew his nephew had done such a thing over a cop, but that just made it all the more tempting.

Erwin carried the plates to the table and sat down, quietly flattered despite being called a dumbass.

"Do you want ice cream too?" he asked as Levi joined him , setting two cups on the table then tilting the tub to examine what type of ice cream it was. Seeing vanilla, he nodded. Erwin chose well. He’d probably already figured out Levi’s aversion to strong tastes.

"When's your birthday?" he asked, as Erwin started ladling out ice cream. 

"14th October," he said. "Why?"

"If I'm still alive and free by then, I'll buy you a cake." Levi decided he could return the favour, and Erwin probably wouldn't throw birthday cake out of a window either.

The blond looked up with a smile, catching Levi’s gaze directly for just a moment, then looked down at his pie and started eating. The small smile remained. He felt happier than he had in a long while, like a great burden was eased, a weight off his shoulders.

"I don't need a cake," he said softly. "I will just take your company, and perhaps a pair of socks."

Levi took his own plate, still feeling undeserving. It was one of the reasons he kept doing housework, to feel that at least in part he could earn his place here.

But he still scoffed at Erwin's comment. "You can't possibly need more socks."

"No man with 50 pairs of socks needs more," he said. "But I never say no to gift socks."

It was strange to have come to this place with someone who had been part of his investigations. He had known the name Levi Ackerman for years - almost his entire adult life - and never did he think that he would come to share birthday apple pie with him. Nor would he have ever thought that he would find him so pleasant to be around. He was glad he had helped him escape his life, but not just to be part of the investigation but because he genuinely thought he deserved this chance at living in a place of peace and quiet.

"Do you really dislike birthdays?” he questioned, genuinely curious. “Is it because you never had them as a child? It's hard to imagine Kenny being a doting uncle."

Levi silently agreed that ‘doting’ wasn’t a word he would use for Kenny. Even when his uncle wanted something, he rarely stooped to cajoling or persuasion, and went straight to threatening or bribing.

“Well, I thought it was Christmas, remember? Most people are busy. That’s a good thing.”

Erwin looked slightly baffled, so Levi elaborated further. "The fewer people know its my birthday, the better my birthday is. If Kenny remembered, he might call me." And when he did, the conversation would turn sour, as it always did. "If everyone forgets, I can buy myself something then watch horror movies alone." His tone implied that this was obviously the winning option.

"As my PI reported to me, I noticed how much you seemed to value solitude,” Erwin reflected. “At first I thought it was a cover for some other activity. Eventually I realised you really did just want to be left alone." He chuckled, but then wondered if his own company was stifling for Levi. Maybe his guest already missed living alone.

"You know, I have Netflix,” he offered. “We could choose a horror movie and I'll pretend I'm not here by being very quiet. Though I might yelp at the very scariest parts.”

“Big tough police chief gets scared at movies?” Levi asked sarcastically.

Erwin covered his eyes, feigning shame. “In real life, not much frightens me anymore. But every time they put a jump scare in a movie, I squeal like a cheerleader. I can’t help it."

The idea of that only made Levi more tempted to watch a horror movie, but he still pulled a face at the offer. He couldn't make his own host pretend he wasn't here, in his own house, letting a criminal take free rein instead, just because this was the day he happened to be born.

Besides, it occurred to Levi only now that having Erwin's company didn't feel like hard work. He could say very little and Erwin didn't mind. And if he was being more talkative, Erwin didn't draw attention to it like Kenny did. Whenever he spoke up, his uncle would pretend to be startled; _oh! It can talk after all!_ And then he would laugh like it was funny and original every time. Just recalling it made Levi shudder.

"As company goes you're not too bad. But don't give yourself nightmares."

"I won't, " Erwin promised, finishing the last bite of his pie. "It actually sounds like fun - I haven't just sat and watched a movie with anyone for a long time. Probably my dad was the last person. He liked comedies though, called them the antidote to reality, and he'd laugh along..." For a moment he was lost in the memory, but this time it was pure and unspoiled, untouched by grief. It was becoming easier to reminisce on the happy times, and he knew it was because justice finally seemed within reach.

Mentally shaking himself out of it, he pushed the black gift box towards Levi. "Don't forget this.”

"For fuck's sake, Smith," Levi whispered, barely audible. As if it wasn't strange enough to move a criminal in, now he was buying him birthday presents. After four days! He scowled, avoiding eye contact. "I can't take gifts from you."

"But I have already purchased it," Erwin insisted gently. "And it won't fit me, and I'm going to be much too busy to return it. So you may as well accept it. Besides, I enjoyed choosing it for you, so your acceptance is a gift to me." He smiled and sipped at the tea that Levi had made for him.

"Fit you...?" That piqued Levi’s curiosity and with a resigned sigh, he took the box, opening it.

Maybe Erwin wouldn't believe it, but Levi had been a pretty talkative child. He could recall tugging on his mother's sleeve, chattering about the bird he saw or the picture he drew. Sometimes she was very responsive. Other times she would swat him away and stare at the ceiling. It was a long time before he connected those changes to her drug-addled state.

He was always home on his birthday, whether it was a summer holiday or a Christmas one, so he'd come down the corridor, small feet tripping to find her. "Mama, it's my birthday!" And she'd scoop him up, and spend a day with him, let him stay up late and never shout, not once.

On what he believed to be his sixth birthday, he came downstairs to tell Uncle Kenny, but Uncle Kenny wasn't there. Christmas wasn’t much of an affair in the Ackerman household.

On his seventh, Levi found Kenny at home, bright and early. "Uncle Kenny, it's Christmas and it’s my birthday." He got a wide-eyed stare. "Oh yeah. Huh. How about that?"

On his eighth fake birthday, he didn't say anything. Neither did anyone else. It remained an unbroken tradition for the next few decades.

Now aged thirty-nine, he unwrapped a soft ivory white jumper, small enough to fit, from his arresting officer of all people. He smiled sadly to himself. It was bittersweet.

"Thanks, Erwin."

Erwin couldn't help but notice a touch of sadness to Levi's smile as he accepted the gift and he hoped he hadn't done wrong. He decided not to ask if he liked it, or if he'd had terrible birthdays, or if he was alright.

"I think it will suit you Levi,” he said gently, before stacking the plates and empty cups in a rickety china tower, carrying them to the kitchen.

"Turn on the TV and choose a movie," he called. "I probably won't have seen it."

Levi chose a comedy, deciding that he needed a little antidote to reality himself. He hadn’t seen many comedies at all, and watching movies with Erwin was a very different experience from watching alone. He laughed at every funny line, and jumped every time something sudden happened. He pointed out odd things like, “I like that lamp. I could use one of those”, or, "that guy has the same shoes as me."

They were about three quarters through when someone said something funny, and no sound came. Levi glanced aside cautiously, only to find Erwin had dozed off, head tilted to the side and body completely still. He wondered what the fuck he was supposed to do with this. He couldn't drag all six foot of him to bed, but simply putting a blanket on him didn't seem right either.

He watched the last 30 minutes of the movie, occasionally checking to see if his companion was still asleep. It was a strange thing to see Erwin sleeping, the faint blue flicker of the TV catching the planes of his forehead, and illuminating one side of his face. Levi was quite often still, but Erwin always gave the sense of perpetual motion, even if it was just his brain ticking away.

Levi rose quietly and switched off the TV, realising he had spent most of that time distracted from the movie itself. It was dark without the screen lighting up the room, only streaks of amber from the streetlamps outside.

He sat next to Erwin and nudged his shoulder, speaking softly. "Oi. You. Go to bed."

The blond sighed, and turned his head, connecting with Levi's shoulder. For a moment he stayed there, about to go back to sleep again, when he realised where he was. He snapped open his eyes and rubbed at his face, half bleary-headed.

"I'm awake," he murmured sleepily.

Levi rolled his eyes when Erwin started snoozing on his shoulder again. He was like a big ass kid. "Okay. Get to bed."


	39. Minor Altercation (26th August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Levi meet again - it doesn't go well.

Mike’s heavy footfall made its way up the hallway stairs, passing by identical corridors and identical closed doors with identical neat doormats. It was like being in some kind of modern, plate-glass labyrinth of never-ending carpeted steps.

The Chief was still busy re-interrogating a group of junkies, and since he was asking them to re-live a party that happened three years ago, he was probably going to be some time. At his request, Mike had squirrelled away Hanji’s reports, and he planned to deliver them to Erwin’s flat where no spy could get their hands on them.

At least, that’s what Erwin seemed to think. Mike wasn’t entirely sure that Ackerman wasn’t working with… well, the other Ackerman. He had been suspicious ever since Erwin had claimed Levi was on their side. He trusted his chief, but he did not trust anyone else much, and especially not a desperate criminal about to be charged with murder. He was not about to be insubordinate, and he was happy to go along with Erwin because frankly he didn't assume he knew better. But given this chance, he planned to talk one-on-one with Levi rather than simply posting the documents through the letterbox.

After an eternity of climbing, he stood outside number 850. The borrowed key jingled in his pocket, but he knocked anyway. 30 seconds later he knocked again. No answer. _Now_ he was suspicious that the suspect had gone AWOL.

On the inside, Levi had heard the knock at the door, and muted the television. It was probably another parcel. He thought it was stupid that he had to ignore so many, all in the name of caution, and then Erwin had to go and pick them all up. But if the detective got home and found anything indoors, he would know what Levi had done, and he'd get another lecture. _You can’t be too cautious, Levi. Don’t get murdered. Blah. Blah. Blah._

"Fuck off," he mouthed as the second knock came. His head snapped around and his eyes widened as he heard a click in the door. In a split second, he darted to the kitchen, quickly slipping a knife from the drawer, holding it upright against his chest as he backed against the wall, listening carefully.

He knew it was unlikely that Kenny would come here himself. It had to be some hired muscle. If they had a blade, he might be safe. If it was a gun, he would dive behind the counter until he could throw a knife instead. There was no phone for him to reach. He would avoid using lethal force, if only because he already looked pretty bad on paper and didn't need to make Erwin's job any harder.

A footstep trod heavily on the carpet, and Levi’s chest fell still as he held his breath. Keeping the knife low on his right, he rounded the corner. He made only the briefest hesitation to check that it wasn't Erwin having a stupid moment, and when he saw that it wasn't, he flew at the intruder, elbow raised to land all his weight on the guy's chest. It sent them both thudding backwards into the front door, where Levi immediately raised the knife. He hoped not to use it, just to display it.

Being attacked was low on the list of things that Mike was expecting to happen in Erwin's apartment. As a tiny blur of black hair and shining knife leapt at him with precision, his instincts took over. His back hit the door, forcing a sharp intake of breath, and both large hands came down to encircle the wrist holding the knife, tilting the blade away from his body.

"Don't fucking move," Levi growled, but the realisation was already dawning upon him.

Mike put all his strength into holding his arm still, then shoved him away with no small amount of force. Adrenaline pumping, muscles tense, eyes wide, Mike faced a furious Levi. In the back of his mind he was already wondering what the hell Erwin was thinking, trusting this individual with everything.

Steadying himself after Mike’s throw, and having registered the intruder’s identity, Levi cursed under his breath. He clasped the knife as he backed further away, setting it down quickly on the nearest flat surface.

"Why the fuck didn't Erwin tell me you were coming?" His features were still twisted in anger as he watched the man warily, feeling like he was in a Mexican stand-off.

"Why should he?" Mike tutted, relaxing as well as Levi put the knife down. "You’re in custody, pal. He doesn't have to tell you anything."

Levi held out a hand as if the answer was obvious. "If he doesn't want me to gut his visitors..." He trailed off, rolling his eyes. This guy was watching him as if he was planning something, and Levi didn't like it at all. It even crossed his mind that he might have been bought and sold. Erwin had said there might be rats in the force, so he wasn’t about to lower his guard.

Mike tilted his head, a large hand settling on his hip. "You, uh… you usually attack people who come to the door?" His voice betrayed a little of his disbelief and all of his mistrust.

"I don't answer the door." Levi folded his arms, leaning back against the wall. "I'm in hiding, remember?"

"Huh." Mike shrugged. "So you’re on lockdown. He thinks even the delivery man might be a snitch?" The corners of his mouth tugged as if it was about to smile but the expression never quite materialised.

Levi looked at him through narrowed eyes. He didn’t say it aloud, but it did seem as if Erwin thought anybody could be paid by Kenny, even the postman. He was being beyond cautious of Levi’s safety. The way he described it, his 20 year plan was coming to fruition, and he was afraid that something would come along and he would end up snatching defeat from the jaws of victory.

"Well… it’s Mike, in case you forgot,” the cop jabbed a thumb at his broad chest, continuing after an awkward silence. He had driven them here after Levi’s first arrest, but it was another memory that stuck in Levi’s mind.

"Like I’d forget you. You arrested me back in ‘01." It was hard to be mad, since he had been guilty after all. In fact, he had punched Sannes in the face too many times to be considered reasonable. Apparently the fact that _he was asking for it_ didn't make a good defence.

Mike dismissed it with a nonchalant wave. "Eh. You got off light once prosecution got hold of it." 

Levi resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He wasn’t about to act grateful for being spared jail time.

There was another uncomfortable silence. Levi left a lot of sentences hanging without replies, and his reticence put the cop on edge. He thought for a moment about what he wanted to know, but unlike Erwin, subtlety didn't sit well with him. In the end he just voiced his thoughts bluntly.

"How did you get the Chief to trust you?"

Levi answered his question with a question. "_Does_ he trust me?" His voice was full of incredulity. 

"You think?" Mike sighed, setting his papers gingerly on the table as if they were a firearm, with Levi watching his every move. "Wouldn’t be in his apartment if he didn't. Doesn't even have friends over. Just me, now and then."

Levi had to think about that. He never assumed that Erwin trusted him much at all, just that he hated Kenny enough to risk his life. And he hadn't realised how infrequently Erwin had visitors. He knew their setup was strange, but it seemed all the stranger now.

Keeping this conversation going was exhausting for Mike. He had to keep thinking of something to say whenever Levi quit answering. As he was thinking, it suddenly occurred to him that the place had changed. It smelled different.

"D’you… did you clean or something?"

There was something amusing about the fact that Mike could guess that the cleaner was him, the wanted criminal, rather than the owner of the house. But Levi was not about to crack a smile in front of someone he still had designated as an enemy.

"Yeah. It was overdue."

Another terse response. Mike pressed further. “So that’s how you got him on your side? _Cleaning?_”

Levi was getting impatient with the endless questions and he could tell Mike was getting at something.

“He just needs me for this case,” he said sharply.

"Sure does," he agreed. "That's easy to take advantage of. Erwin is capable of taking care of himself and his affairs but I also know how much he wants to get Kenny. Just saying, maybe you know that too..."

"And what big plan do you think I'm executing while I'm locked in here?" Levi didn't exactly expect to be trusted by police officers, or anyone else, but the grilling was unwarranted. He wasn't even allowed to answer the door for parcels. Did this guy really think he was inviting Kenny over to plan some grand assassination on the chief of police?

"Getting yourself out of trouble," Mike replied. "Wouldn’t be that difficult for you to shift all the blame solely to your uncle."

"I don't give a fuck what your concerns are," Levi snapped dismissively. He wasn't going to apologise for grabbing a knife when he was the lynchpin of a case against a man who was practically a serial killer. He kept his eyes fixed on Mike. This whole conversation felt like a threat, as if Levi was planning to murder Erwin and now had to protest his innocence for a crime that had never even happened.

But to Mike, this guy was definitely a red flag. He didn't know quite what to make of him. It was clear that he expected to be attacked at any moment from any side, and it made him abrasive, hard and harsh. In some ways he was like the criminals Mike dealt with; in others, he was like the victims.

"I didn't come here to argue," Mike said, sniffing haughtily. He was about to try and de-escalate the situation, but was interrupted by the opening of the door and Erwin's cheerful greeting.

"Hullo, I'm back--"

The scene before Erwin stopped him in his tracks. It was instantly clear that he had interrupted something. 

"You have a visitor," Levi said coldly, throwing both cops one last dirty look before turning away towards the back room. He overheard Erwin’s first sentence in the distance, fading out as he closed the door.

“What was all that about?”

After that, all he could hear was the low, muffled thrum of their voices back and forth. He paced around the room, which may have been intended as a bedroom once but was essentially being used by Erwin as a storage unit. Levi perched on Erwin’s long-abandoned exercise bike, staring at overfill columns of books that didn’t fit on the living room shelves. When he had set foot in here just days ago, the dust had been stifling. It was obvious in hindsight that Mike was right; Erwin didn’t have visitors. If he did, this room would have a bed, or at least space for one.

He couldn’t guess how long it was before he heard the front door close again. Sensing that it was safe, he left the room, making his way down the hallway. 

Erwin let Levi walk past him to the kitchen, awaiting an explanation. He was baffled when none came. Was this _normal_ to Levi? 

"You jumped on Mike with a knife," he blurted out eventually. "What were you thinking?"

"What do you _think_ I was thinking?" Levi said, busying himself with putting dishes away and practically ignoring Erwin. He thought this was being vastly overstated. It wasn't as if he was about to plunge a blade into the first guy who walked in without checking. He was just _holding_ the knife, so the intruder knew he was armed and not defenceless.

Erwin sighed, holding up his hands, trying to play the role of a peacemaker. "Please try to be more careful Levi. That was quite an embarrassment when I'm trying to keep Mike on side. I have only just persuaded him of your innocence."

Since Mike’s opinion on his innocence was irrelevant to him, Levi didn’t answer.

"I should have thought to tell you that he would be visiting - but you have no phone,” Erwin continued resolutely. “Besides, it was unlikely to be someone connected with your Uncle. They have no way of finding out you're here, and much less of getting their hands on a key." 

Levi snapped to face Erwin, a crooked expression on his face, but he stopped just short of saying what was on his mind.

_They found your father._

He froze, angry at his own bitterness the second it crossed his mind. That was the brutal kind of response that being raised by his uncle taught him. He looked at Erwin, soft, questioning, blinking at him, innocently unaware of Levi's cruel thoughts. It was so easy to hurt him when he wasn’t expecting it. Harsh words slashed him like a knife and the pain flashed clearly in his eyes, just for a split second before he masked up again. It was tempting. It was a way to lash out over the embarrassment of having threatened one of Erwin's friends, and being lectured like a badly-behaved child in those low, reasoning tones.

Swallowing his hateful reply, Levi turned back towards the sink, drying his hands and folding the towel as he answered sarcastically.

"Yes. Locked doors are Kenny’s weakness. He'd just go home."

Erwin was a patient man by nature, which right now was very lucky for Levi.

“He has no way of even finding my address, or even knowing you are here.” Erwin kept a measure of control in his voice, but it was clear that his patience was fraying. “They would never consider that a police chief would take someone like you into their own home. That is why I did this; I knew they would never think of it. Please try to trust me, Levi. I wouldn’t put you in danger for no good reason.”

There was something painful to Levi about being described as _someone like you_, a wretched criminal. Deeper still, he was rattled by once again living in a house where strangers had access and the door could open without a moment's warning. This was not his home any more than Winterford Avenue or Denham Close. Those were Kenny's spaces, ready to be snatched back and invaded in a second. This was Erwin's space, and Levi was the unwanted intruder.

He slapped the folded towel on the counter. "What if he follows you, genius?"

“Why would he follow me?” Erwin questioned, a little twitch in his right eye starting up, a small tell that he too was getting annoyed with this. It was as if Levi didn’t know his career, or how long he had been there. Every risk he took was worth taking.

There was an undeniable possibility that Kenny would have him followed, but Erwin doubted that Kenny even knew who he was. He had been very careful never to question Kenny directly, nor to sign off on anything he would see. As far as outsiders were concerned, he was just another officer doing his job. To suspect Erwin of taking Levi into his home was a great stretch. Even his informant, whoever it was, shouldn’t know Levi’s whereabouts.

Levi thought it much less likely that Kenny was in the dark, and Erwin should know that his uncle was unpredictable, violent, dedicated to the cause of chaos. He might have followed them on the first day for all they knew, and kept watch on the place ever since.

“Has your Uncle ever even mentioned my name?” Erwin asked, stabbing through Levi’s paranoid thoughts and receiving an impatient reply.

"He's said 'pig' plenty. How should I know if he means you or your overgrown friend out there?"

“I asked if he mentioned _my name_,” Erwin repeated, frowning deeply. “You are being paranoid. Paranoid enough to jump the first person who walks in the door - someone who happens to be my friend and my colleague. The only ally you and I have at the station, the only one I can trust to help with this. Please Levi - control yourself.” He gave a small shake of his head and looked away, as if he was disappointed in him. 

Levi threw him a disgusted look at the idea that he was out of control. In his eyes, his decisions had been sensible. “_You_ are the one who told me not to open the door. I can’t even go to the store but I’m supposed to let your friends come and go as they please?”

He caught Erwin with his shoulder as he walked out of the kitchen. There wasn’t anywhere to run when he was locked in the flat, but he wasn’t going to stay and be lectured.

Shoved aside, Erwin had to take a deep and calming breath, but he still turned to follow him into the living room.

“Of course I told you that - and I stand by it!” Erwin argued. “I don’t want you answering the door, but equally I don’t want you _stabbing_ anyone who comes to it, at least without checking it might be someone innocent! What if it was a nice neighbour coming to water my plants or something?”

“There would be no problem if the _idiot_ who owns the place told me what to expect,” Levi snarled in response. He refused to have this blame pinned on him. 

“I don’t have to tell you all the comings and goings of my apartment, because I didn’t expect you to act like a lunatic over it. So I didn’t think it would come up--”

“And _I_ didn’t expect visitors. You’re not exactly popular.” Levi’s expression was one of fury at the word ‘lunatic.’ Didn’t Erwin know that an _actual_ lunatic was after them both?

But his words cut Erwin, who had to hold back from flinching. It was true, he wasn’t popular, he didn’t have a lot of friends. He had been focused on his job and found himself somewhat alone. Still, Levi didn’t have to just come out with it like that.

“That’s uncalled for,” he said firmly. His scolding response gave Levi a small thrill of victory. He was sick of being criticised, and he was going to make him back off, one way or another.

“I didn’t think anyone else knew you were alive, so I didn’t roll out the red carpet,” he said sardonically.

“You’re being unreasonable!” Erwin said, raising his voice. “And ridiculous! What kind of person attacks a man for walking in the door, with a key?”

“A person in _hiding_, you fucking moron,” Levi hissed, whirling around to face Erwin again with his fists clenched.

“I’m sorry if you can’t possibly believe that I have a friend - I have been too busy tracking down your uncle for most of my life and trying to put him away for all his crimes. Crimes _you_ witnessed.”

It was Levi’s turn to reel back from those words, taking a sharp breath. He had always known that Erwin would blame him for Kenny’s crimes. “Catching him is _your_ job, not mine.”

“And I will do it, if you stop jeopardising it!” Erwin answered angrily. He glared at Levi, his blue eyes flashing with irritation. “That’s the whole point of you being allowed into my home.”

“If you could catch him, you would have done it by now. And I don’t _want_ to be here. I’m sick of the sight of you.”

“This conversation is pointless,” Erwin declared, throwing his hands into the air once more, and without another word he stormed into his bedroom, closing the door behind him.

Levi was completely thrown by that response. He was expecting a punch to the face, a vicious rebuke about what a no-good, worthless, murdering criminal he was, some reminder of how his mother was a junkie whore and he was an accident, some blame for the death of Erwin's father... He was ready to raise his fists and fight back, but he wasn't ready for Erwin to just walk out.

He was completely confused. The adrenaline was thrumming through his veins, preparing him to kill or be killed, and then Erwin just... what? Got bored?

He had stared blankly out of the window for a while, watching the tiny lamps of car headlights moving around below, saw more and more distant windows turn dark. Although he waited to see if Erwin would come back ready for round two, nothing happened. Levi had never swallowed anger like this before, and it felt as if it had no place to go. Trapped, with no willing sparring partner, he had no choice but to wait for it to dissipate.

On the other side of the door, Erwin sat on the edge of his bed, willing himself to calm down. It didn’t work too well. By the time he was putting on his pyjamas he was still replaying the argument over in his head, dwelling on Levi’s assessment of him as useless and lonely. It hurt him more deeply than he cared to admit.


	40. Dutch Courage (27th August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol sees Levi and Erwin through to a resolution of their differences.

There was no sleeping that night. Levi stayed out of Erwin's sight when the man left for work, not wanting to appear asleep and vulnerable in front of him. For once he was glad that the cop was on the late shift again. He spent the day in almost a daze, and fell asleep in front of the TV for a couple of hours, but even then, he dreamed about fighting someone. His limbs were heavy, weighted down. While his opponent laughed and pummelled him, Levi's return blows just glanced off them.

The key in the door signalled Erwin's return, but it equally reminded him of Mike's visit. _Stupid fucking Mike._

Erwin gingerly removed his shoes and coat, already missing the soft welcomes he’d received the last few days. Levi’s head was tilted to show the curve of the back of his neck that sloped upwards into his undercut. He was irritatingly attractive even when sulking. He was also making a point of ignoring Erwin; there was no way he actually wanted to watch the advert that was playing on the TV.

The blond took his secret weapon from his bag; a chilled, perspiring bottle of wine. He didn’t know how good Levi’s tolerance was, so there were three more backup bottles. He approached the sofa with all the enthusiasm of a man walking to the gallows.

“Come have a drink with me,” he said, standing at Levi’s side, his tone insistent where his nerves were failing. He could foresee Levi refusing. Frankly he could see foresee him slapping the bottle out of his hands.

For his part, Levi was sick of being blindsided by Erwin's weird actions. The man was as unpredictable as they came. He got into a fight and then quit, then went to _sleep_ in the house with the convicted criminal he had just pissed off, and then came home with alcohol the next day. It was baffling.

"I don't drink," he lied, resolutely looking forward.

With a sigh, Erwin picked up the remote and decisively turned off the TV, which got Levi’s attention. He turned suddenly to face Erwin, the expression on his face coldly furious.

_Don't treat me like a child,_ Levi thought. _I am as old as you. I'm not in your custody and I'm none of your fucking concern._ But he said nothing, still trying to gauge Erwin's intentions. They were impossible to untangle at the best of times, and Levi was in unchartered territory. Normal people just fought. They didn't do whatever this was.

Erwin saw things in Levi’s dark, heavy-lidded stare that he hadn’t expected. He was wary, watchful, ready to strike, but there was a hint of confusion. He realised that Levi couldn’t be much experienced in interpersonal matters; not the normal kind, anyway. It was up to him to lead them to a peaceful resolution. He took a deep breath, swallowing his pride and giving it his best shot.

“I’m sorry we got into such a foolish argument. Let me mend things. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

“Yeah. Wouldn’t want to ruin your peaceful little life with my criminal tendencies,” Levi muttered, looking away again.

“I’m not worried about _my_ life,” Erwin countered. “I’ve had years of peace, and I’ll have more. I wanted to share it with you, not bring more chaos.”

His voice indicated that he was entirely genuine, and he was. He had always thought that Levi had been through enough, even when he only knew him on paper. Bringing him to his flat he had been full of high-minded dreams of giving him a new start, a chance to be happy. In hindsight he felt foolish for presuming that he could fix everything, but even after this, he hoped he had a chance.

“Please?”

Levi sighed, resigned. The blond’s smile was disarming.

"Do whatever you want. It's your house."

Erwin felt triumphant. Coming from Levi, that was practically an enthusiastic yes. He smiled wider and went to the kitchen to open one of the bottles and pour out two sparkling glasses.

“Here, for you,” Erwin said as he walked back into the living room with the glasses in his hands, holding one out towards Levi. “This will be better than fighting, won’t it?” He dared to chuckle a little but he was met with an unamused stare.

Levi was still watching and waiting, reading the signs. As he accepted the glass, he wondered what lecture he was about to receive. Although he wanted to avoid looking at Erwin, their eyes met by chance, and Levi found he couldn’t look away. There was no anger at all. Trepidation, perhaps, but no smugness or hatred. 

He sipped his wine, more for distraction than anything. It was cold, bubbling and sharp. He almost wanted to hate it so he had an excuse to be mad at Erwin again, but annoyingly, it wasn’t that bad.

At work, Erwin had had plenty of time to muse on his behaviour, on Levi’s actions, on his response to it. He had given Mike his keys and the files without so much as a second thought, and now he wanted to slap yesterday’s Erwin for putting them in this awkward position. If things had gotten _really_ bad, he might even have endangered Mike’s life.

“It was short-sighted of me to send Mike here without warning you,” he said, launching straight into it. “I shouldn’t have expected your instincts to change overnight just because you moved from a dangerous environment to a safe one. I know where you grew up, and it will take time to unlearn--”

“How is _this_ a safe environment?” Levi interrupted.

Erwin was startled. He gestured wordlessly around as if it was self-explanatory.

“No drugs, no criminals, no violence, no Kenny, no--”

“I don’t even know what part of town we’re in.” Levi was leaning forward, eyes intense. It was the only outward sign of the urgency he felt, the need to tell Erwin just how wrong he was. Last night in the heat of the moment, he had no chance to assert his position, but now he’d had a whole day to brainstorm his argument.

“I don’t know what your plan is, I’m still charged with murder, I have no phone to call for help, I’d get lost if I set foot out the door, Kenny might kill me, _you_ might kill me, you’ve got all the power to cover it up, and if you got the job done then I’m _damn_ sure no-one would miss me--”

“Levi!” Erwin held his hands up in a surrender gesture, powerless before the onslaught of paranoid thoughts. He hadn’t thought about any of that, since he truly had no intentions of sacrificing or hurting Levi.

They both held a silent stare, until Levi lowered his gaze to look at nothing in particular.

Erwin’s mind was linking things together quickly now. Levi felt powerless, like he was on someone else’s territory. He hadn’t even considered it. Of all the words he would use to describe Levi, ‘powerless’ didn’t make the list.

He continued to silently berate himself. Who was he to judge? He hadn’t lived Levi’s life. And he knew it was an awful one. He knew that Levi had lived in places no reasonable person would choose. There was no doubt that he had been in situations where his life depended on getting the knife to someone’s throat first.

Dwelling on that thought, Erwin realised for the first time that he felt for Levi. Really felt for him. It hit him like a punch to the gut and for a moment he went dizzy, his head spinning. This was not good. Having a foolish crush on the lynchpin of his entire case against Kenny… it was a distraction. Worse than a distraction. It was foolish.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally. Levi waited a while for a _‘but’_ and some excuses to follow, except to his surprise they never came.

“I haven’t had your experiences. And hearing about them doesn’t mean I understand them. But I will try much harder from now on, to see things from your perspective, and respect your wishes.”

Stunned, Levi felt a sudden catch in his throat. Erwin had said much more openly emotive things, but for some reason, this simple statement had a deep effect on him. He quickly reined it in.

“It’s forgotten,” he said.

Erwin gave him a look that was a mix of suspicion and bemusement. “Are you--”

“Forgotten.”

The chief smiled softly, copying Levi and drinking from his glass again. 

“What am I going to do with all this alcohol, then?” he joked, pointing at the mostly-full bottle, and the others stacked near the door.

Levi shrugged.

\------------------------------------

By the time the first bottle was down, Erwin was telling his favourite story.

“So I’m looking all over the club for my hat,” he said, laughing at the memory. “And it’s just gone - it’s not on the floor, it’s not in lost property, it’s not anywhere! I’m panicking by this point because I can’t show up to the meeting in the morning without it, I know the chief already has me down as someone who forgets and loses things too easily, and I don’t want to make a poor impression anymore! And then I look up and I see it!”

He gestured with his hands as he spoke, re-enacting the moment. “It’s on the head of the woman Mike’s dancing with. Except he’s not getting it back. He’s just dancing with her and laughing.”

"What a douchebag," Levi tutted, cracking open the next bottle and refilling both glasses. He and Erwin had roughly matched glass for glass, blitzing through it fast. To his own surprise he could keep up with Erwin despite being smaller and thinner. He had little practice with alcohol and was enjoying the buzz.

Erwin chuckled, his body relaxed, sunk deep into the soft cushions of his sofa. “So I went over there and I stared at him. Just stared. Until he noticed me. Then he turns and says… ‘hey.’” 

He paused for effect, as if to highlight just what a scandalous response this was. “_Hey!_ As if he hasn’t just given _my_ hat to his girlfriend!” Erwin started to laugh, sipping at his newly-filled glass of wine. “Lucky for him I wasn’t as uptight back then.”

He paused, obviously contemplating something. “Am I too tightly wound? Be honest.”

Levi answered quickly, instinctively honest. "You're not bad outside of work.”

"Not bad?" Erwin echoed with an increasingly wide smile. "That's such a compliment from you!" He chuckled, stretching out his legs, looking the picture of relaxation. "I should blush at that, you having such a high opinion of me."

Levi rolled his eyes. “Your stupid sock habit and bad housekeeping aren’t what I'd call uptight. But you talk to me like I'm a kid."

Erwin looked slightly baffled, making Levi continue, voice incredulous.

"Oh come on. You don't see it? You turned off the TV to scold me. You lecture me for not sleeping right. You always give me that "I'm not mad, just disappointed" face..."

"I suppose that does sound patronising, when you put it like that. I'm not very observant about myself,” Erwin said with deep concern as he thought about it all. “I’ll try to restrain that." He pulled a sheepish face.

"It’s fine. Just not used to it." As far as Levi was concerned, there were worse things than a patronising person. It was nice to think Erwin would care if he lived or died, and Levi tried to forget that his concern was only for his case and his witness.

"That's sad," Erwin said, observing his guest closely. "Not used to being cared about… It sounds like a miserable childhood." He found himself admiring Levi, and maybe it was the alcohol talking, but he looked so good right now; sharp features, perfect build, strong arms. He liked the way his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and he liked the way he sat, holding himself so precisely.

Luckily for him, Levi was distracted, not knowing how to reply to Erwin’s comment. His perception of his own childhood had shifted and shifted over the years. First he thought it was normal, then he realised how different other children were. He was a nightmare teenager, then an adult who didn't need parenting anymore. It was long past time for him to stop dwelling on his childhood. The loss of his mother should mean nothing now that he was an adult.

He had sanctified Kuchel in his mind, then hated her for being stupid enough to get hooked, called her everything from a worthless slut to a misguided angel, and it was only in the last few years that he suspected he was somewhere approaching the truth. Kenny wasn't pure evil, but he was a brutal individual. His mother was a victim, but she could have done better.

When Levi glanced up again, Erwin was gazing at him with a calculating look. He wondered if he had been silent for too long.

“Maybe the authority voice is part of being a cop,” Levi said, subtly changing the subject.

“Things might have been very different if I had ever become a teacher,” Erwin mused, wondering what that version of himself was like, but Levi raised an eyebrow, his expression one of derision.

“No. You’d still be bossy.” He could easily picture Mr Smith, the hard-ass history teacher. "I bet you were prefect, head boy, top of the class and all that shit when you were a kid."

"Am I so obvious?" Erwin laughed, as Levi sincerely nodded.

"Yes, alright, I was top of my class. I was lucky that's all. Dad encouraged me in everything I did. So when he died - when he was murdered - I wanted to use the gifts he'd given me to honour him. To make things as right as they could be. I saw how little effort the police made in the case, how they failed to find the ones responsible even though I showed them all the notes he left about Kenny Ackerman. The problem was he didn't have his name. Just a trail. I picked up the trail in his… absence."

Erwin looked embarrassed all of a sudden. "I'm sorry - I don't know why I said all that."

"That's why." Levi pointed at the wine bottles, one empty, and the second fast approaching.

Although he made a hum of agreement, Erwin filled his glass again regardless.

"I hate your uncle," he continued, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, and Levi thought it was refreshing to hear him being so blunt. It seemed that alcohol stripped him back to simpler terms and feelings. Instead of high-minded terms about justice and 'paying a debt to society', now he was just being straight-forward. Erwin just hated Kenny, as well he should.

"Tell me you ran rings around him as a kid, caused all kinds of trouble?"

"I've hit him more times than I can count." At that assurance, Levi saw Erwin's eyes light up in an instant.

"Good!" Erwin said stoutly. “He’s earned it." 

He toyed with his glass for a few moments, contemplating silently. "I want him to be found guilty of my Dad's death. And of the Arlerts. I don't care about the rest. But I'll get him on anything that I can.”

"You _don't_ care about the rest?"

Levi's expression darkened, glazing over as he thought of the corpses that lay beneath Kenny's feet as if he could see them. The shaved head of Antoine Lang, caved in by Kenny's temper. The thin, gnarled form of Faye Scadden, peroxide hair stained in blood, track marks on her arms. The big, muscled body of Mantel in his too-tight shirts. McKay, skeletal, hipbones jutting out over low slung jeans, bruised all over from his collapsed veins. The shiny cheap suit of Isaac Robson, mouth agape with his one missing front tooth. Marrison's stocky figure, his glinting, greedy eyes long extinguished. And Adrian Smith; gentle, educated Adrian Smith, poring over his articles right up to the deadline, only to die in his chair, not even safe at home.

They looked at each other in heavy silence, then Levi spoke softly.

"Reconsider."

Erwin felt a touch of shame. It wasn't that he didn't care about what happened to them. He didn't want them to die, and he wanted Kenny in prison before he hurt anyone else. But if Adrian Smith and the Arlerts remained technically unsolved, he would feel as if he had failed both himself and Armin.

He'd never dared to voice it but he'd thought it, wondered in dark moments, whether he cared about the greater good half as much as he pretended. Perhaps he only cared about carrying on his father's work and proving him right, in giving his death some meaning. 

"Is that selfish of me?" Erwin voiced hesitantly.

“A bit,” Levi said casually, without a moment’s hesitation nor a hint of judgment. He was surprised to find such a lacklustre attitude in the detective, the chief of police at that, but it changed nothing.

He didn’t agree though. It was true that the deaths of innocents were harder to tolerate than those of Faye Scadden or Barney Marrison, but Levi still thought they needed justice. He had grown up around these immoral sorts. Everyone he knew had done something wrong, and he was no angel himself. They meant as much as anyone to him. He didn’t want to see anyone die.

Hearing the raw and honest reply, Erwin stared into his drink, took a very long and deep breath, and nodded.

“You’re right,” he agreed without looking up. “I am selfish, prioritising my father. But… I do still want to put Kenny behind bars. And I will do anything to see that happen. Will you still help me?” He still couldn’t bring himself to look up at the man.

“Of course.” The reply was resolute. 

Erwin tilted his head slightly, trying to figure him out. How did someone grow up in such an environment as he had and still turn out like this? Despite being quiet, abrasive at times, wary and a little shocking, he was still a decent human being. “Thank you, Levi,” he said sincerely. “You are… very accepting. Not at all judgmental.” 

Levi didn’t know what to say to that. He’d had plenty of chances to judge the junkies of the city and its many criminals, but he couldn’t blame them for how deep they fell. They were like him, involved in some minor degree, then drawn in deeper and deeper, like quicksand, with no outside influence to save them. That was the disturbing thing about Mattias Friel; he was so nearly free. Levi thought he was out. Then he showed up next in one of Erwin’s files, a ghost.

Naturally, Erwin was most hurt by the murder that affected him personally. But Mattias was the crime that haunted Levi the most. It had weighed heavily on him since Erwin had revealed his fate, mostly because he had imagined a picturesque redemption story, a man as degenerate as Levi himself who somehow managed to escape and turn it around, get to rehab, get clean, win his family back. Now he knew that wasn’t true. Kenny had dragged him back and choked him with his own chains.

Erwin broke his reverie with another question. “How did you stay free of the temptation of drugs? You grew up around them, they must be normalised for you…”

“Normal, yeah, but lethal,” Levi answered. After seeing the lives of drug addicts, it was the last thing he wanted for himself. In fact, he thought much fewer people would try it if they could have seen his mother, shaking and shivering, lying on a blood-stained bed, trying to find a working vein.

“And my mother told me not to.” It was an oddly childish response, but it was true. Only ever when she was in hospital, or while she was high. She’d slur her words and mumble and call him _baby_, and tell him how bad it was. _Don’t ever do what mama does, baby. Don’t touch needles. Don’t take tablets. Don’t get sick._

“And then she died,” he said, his voice hard. There was no starker warning.

Erwin wasn't sure how to console Levi, or even if he wanted that. The edge to his voice suggested not.

"Do you remember much of her?" he asked. "I got eighteen years with my father, but your time with your mother was short. And Dad was there… I mean, he wasn't high.”

Levi shook his head. Erwin already asked him this, but either he was tipsy and forgot, or he was hoping for a nicer answer. If he wanted to hear more memories, Levi could only wish he had more to share.

"I don’t remember much at all. I can picture her though." More accurately, he could picture shapes and smudges of colour, pale skin, swathes of black hair, thin limbs. He’d always thought she was so tall when he was a child, but now he remembered how Kenny had dwarfed her. She must have been small, like him.

Not only that, but he knew his mother was so young when he was born, and only 26 when she died. He couldn't imagine what she would look like now, or comprehend that he had already lived much longer than her entire life.

"Your dad looks like you," he said, shifting the focus again.

"Oh!" Erwin startled at that comment and whipped his head up to look at Levi. "It's good to hear that!" He felt a swell of pride and happiness, a warm glow inside his chest. It sounded to Levi like Erwin had never noticed the resemblance before, but it was obvious to an outsider. 

"I'm glad to be anything like my father," he continued to muse. "He was so clever, and so patient. I was an obnoxious child really. Always asking questions, always thinking I was right about everything, begging for his attention, telling him he didn't give me enough time. What a brat!" He laughed a little bitterly at the memories of himself. "I had no idea how lucky I was."

"That's what kids are like." Levi said that thinking it was probably true, but in actuality he had no idea. He had thankfully limited interactions with children.

"Hmm," Erwin hummed thoughtfully. “I don't usually tell people these things." He huffed another thoughtful noise as if he couldn’t tell where any of this was coming from. This time Levi decided not to point out that it was the wine. It was the lowerer of inhibitions and persuaded lots of words out of Erwin, and he didn’t want the chief to stop.

Erwin wanted to ask if Levi missed his mother, but thought the overly emotional question might make his guest shut down. He picked his words advisedly.

"Do you ever wish your mother was back?"

It created a slow silence. If his mother was alive, Levi knew she would still be trapped deep in her miserable existence. If death was peace, maybe it was better. It wasn’t his decision, who lived and who died. He didn’t want it to be, either.

"I don't wish for anyone to be dead," Levi said eventually, "but nothing would have changed."

"How unusual you are," Erwin mused, sounding almost impressed. "I think you're tough on the surface, but not so much underneath.” 

"I'm not tough?" Levi looked skeptical at that, half-tempted to punch Erwin in the arm as if to prove otherwise.

“Well..." Erwin drew out the word as he chose his words carefully. “Only tough because you had to be. But not hard. Or cruel.”

Levi couldn't figure out if he was being insulted or not, so he let it slide.

"But I know you're not averse to violence. Does that mean Kenny was violent with you?"

“Not much as a kid. He didn't lose his temper often. Not with me." That was one of the reasons it had always shocked Levi when Kenny had lost his temper and hurt someone. He knew his uncle _could_ control it. Sometimes he just chose not to.

“So he just hit you once? Twice? Every month?" His tone was sardonic. Levi spoke in such blase terms about his childhood; Erwin wanted to find out more.

His nagging earned him a vague 'tch' of disapproval. "Months apart."

Levi didn't want Erwin to get the impression that he was some bruised, abused little kid sitting in a room and crying for his whole childhood. That wasn't how it went. Kenny didn't get mad and lash out, but he had this crazed belief in being toughened up, so he was strong-handed from time to time.

"You realise even being hit once is too much?" Erwin challenged Levi as he once again sounded dismissive. "Besides, you must have been witness to prostitution, drug deals, surrounded by criminals and violence… even as a child. I can only imagine the types of people you had to put up with...”

Levi wrinkled his nose at the idea Erwin had obviously painted of his upbringing. Yes, he was around some unsavoury characters, but if Kenny didn't want him around criminals he'd have had to give Levi back, because his uncle was the worst of the lot. And he was in the room with lots of drugs and deals, but that’s because they were always going on. It would be like asking Kenny not to let his nephew witness breathing. 

It wasn't that Levi hadn't noticed the shortcomings of his childhood, it was just that complaining did nothing. Besides, since adulthood he had mostly escaped that life, fixed the fleas and the mice and the mould. There was no need to dwell on it now.

“You don’t get it,” he said, impatient. Erwin wanted to imagine some kind of insane drug den, but it didn’t match Levi’s memories. “To me, the prostitutes were just women. And some of them were nice to me.”

Erwin frowned deeply, storing that information. Now he felt like _he_ was Shadis, pre-judging these people just because of their addictions and circumstances. He tried to keep in mind that Levi’s mother was a prostitute, and that he wouldn’t thank Erwin for the contemptuous attitude. He changed tack.

“How often did he bring home prostitutes?” he asked, thinking about the women Kenny had killed.

"Once a week or once a fortnight, maybe?" Levi thought that was fairly often, although now he considered that Kenny could have done it every night if he wanted. Perhaps his drive just wasn't that high. He visibly cringed. His uncle's sexual appetite wasn't something he wanted to think about in any depth.

“Was he their pimp, or simply their dealer?”

"I reckon he probably gets a cut. Most of them start as junkies, then get on the game after that. He tried to buy one for me. First time he just got angry. Second time..." Levi gestured at a scarred knuckle as he recalled that very unpleasant fight. "Don't know why he thought that was a good idea after M--"

Levi’s eyes widened. He nearly said 'mama', for the first time in years. Quickly continuing, he played it off as a slip of the tongue. "--my mother's history."

A part of Erwin felt guilty for the eager, excited feeling he got from Levi’s near-slip of the tongue. He liked people to feel pricks of emotion that left them unguarded, see them start to unravel. It told him a lot about them.

Erwin peered at the knuckle Levi showed him. “You didn’t take him up on that offer then. Insensitive of him.”

"He's not a sensitive person.”

Taking hold of Levi’s hand by the fingers, Erwin pulled it closer, as if he was inspecting the scar on his knuckles. Levi held himself back from flinching, but since he was usually hyper-alert to people being in his personal space, it took some self-control not to yank his hand away.

Erwin noticed the slender little hand was slightly cold, and he absently rubbed his thumb across Levi’s palm before letting go. He would rather have kept it there, but it felt so inappropriate for the conversation topic so he pushed the thought away to the back of his mind.

“From the looks of that you gave him quite the punch... or was that scar made worse from some of your other fights?” Erwin asked. “I know you’ve been in a few. How many of them were your Uncle?”

"I caught his teeth," Levi explained, recalling the solid thud against Kenny's face and the sudden sharp pain through his knuckles. He hadn't seen how bad it was until later. "I've hit him... twenty times? Other people... double that." Some part of him realised that confessing these crimes to a police officer was a bad idea but Erwin couldn't do much about it now. "You haven't arrested me enough." He finished his glass of wine to hide his smirk. There was some small pleasure in teasing Erwin.

Erwin just chuckled. There was something satisfying about imagining Kenny getting thumped in the face - and twenty times no less.

“Clearly not,” he admitted. “Although I wouldn’t want to arrest you for hitting Kenny - I’d buy you a drink for that.” That reminded him there was still more wine, and he refilled both their glasses, raising his up. “To Kenny getting punched in the face!”

Levi shook his head wryly, letting Erwin have his moment of enjoyment.

“What else did you hit him for?”

It was a hard question for Levi to answer. He didn’t even remember what their first fight was about and there wasn’t much of a story to tell. Levi had been about fourteen, pushed to breaking point and for the first time he had snapped and lashed out. His uncle seemed strangely impressed. And at least from then on, Kenny seemed more reluctant to get physical, probably because he knew he would have a fight on his hands. Yet he still seemed to enjoy making Levi angry if he could, so Levi in turn liked to make him pay dearly for the pleasure.

“Once when he asked me to kill someone. Once when I found out Marrison was dead. Another time I walked in on him threatening someone. Usually he was just asking for it.” 

“You’ll have to forgive me for not being as good and righteous a cop as I pretend to be,” Erwin said with a smile. “But I imagine punching him almost once a week, and I have never even met him.” 

Levi shrugged. It seemed only fair that Erwin could daydream about punching Kenny, righteousness be damned. There was a queue to beat the shit out of his uncle now, and Levi was going to join in. He’d given enough chances, and the guy still tried to frame him for murder.

Erwin watched his guest closely, trying to picture his life, this chaotic existence where Kenny could be behind any door or appear on the scene any day, and suddenly a fight could break out.

“You must have been a resilient child. The opposite of me; I was quiet and timid.” Levi looked disbelieving, which made him chuckle. “Yes, I know! It wasn’t until I went to university that that changed.”

Levi tilted his head, intrigued by the idea of Erwin as a university student. He could only picture students as they were on TV, or on the buses going to and from the city centre, all casual in jeans and wearing backpacks with colourful keyrings hanging off them. It looked like another life, and his name wasn’t on the entry list.

“Before then I don’t think I could have imagined myself as a police officer. Just teaching. It was all I wanted to do. I think I’d have made a good teacher.”

Erwin’s voice slowed as he lost himself in the nostalgia. “In another life, maybe.” He murmured it, more to himself than to his companion.

Levi didn’t know what to say. He still wished he could have intervened and stopped Kenny sooner, although he suspected that if he had tried, he would simply have been sitting inside a cell by the time Adrian Smith was killed. Kenny had some kind of hold on the police, and Levi didn’t know what it was. They didn’t get anywhere with him. Perhaps his lawyer was incredible, perhaps there were very convincing displays in the interrogation room, perhaps money exchanged hands. Maybe Kenny’s insider on the force had a lot of power after all. Time after time, Levi had seen other people go to jail for less. Sometimes when Kenny and an associate were arrested, the associate did time while Kenny walked free. Levi was sure that could have been him. And now it was; or would have been if not for Erwin.

At that point in his wandering thoughts, he looked up at his companion, the one obstacle between him and a jail sentence. Lost in thought, gazing at his half-empty glass, thick eyebrows slightly furrowed. Levi felt bad for him, but for some reason it was particularly heavy. And he was no stranger to pity; he felt it for every sorry runt that came to Kenny begging for _just one more, just half an extra bag, just one week to get the cash._ He had enough sympathy to share among the desperate hookers, the half-comatose zombies staring at the ceiling, the hallucinating junkies screaming at each other and the worried parents trying to pound down the doors.

But Erwin’s pain was heavier than all of that, and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was because his dirty life had somehow infected the Smith’s clean household, and it broke the laws of nature. Shiny, clean, pristine high achievers shouldn’t get caught up in Kenny’s putrid life, but somehow the rot had spread.

“You’re not a bad cop in _this_ life,” Levi said gently, after some time. He knew Erwin had achieved something, even if his original fate had been stolen from him.

“Thank you, Levi,” said Erwin, looking up at him, his eyes soft. “I suppose I am doing something. And it was right, under the circumstances.”

The look on Erwin’s face could have paused time. Levi froze, staring back at him as if he had been hit by a bullet and his heart stuttered. He didn’t know how someone so harsh and conniving could be so gentle in another moment. He was starting to realise why Erwin’s pain hurt him so deeply; he was getting attached to the man. That was something he usually tried to avoid, since it always hurt when someone peeled away and took a piece of you with them. Granted, he only experienced it once, but once was enough; sometimes he felt like he was still missing half a heart.

“I’m sorry,” Erwin said, sheepish all over again. “I seem to be rambling tonight.”

Levi gathered himself enough to answer. “Makes up for being secretive the rest of the time.”

“Hah, well... there haven’t been many people in my life who are close to me. But I’m glad to add you to that selective group.”

“Please,” Levi said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “I won’t see you again when this is done.”

Erwin looked up sharply, his alcohol-addled brain racing.

"Why do you say that?" he asked after a pause. "Have I been unfriendly to you?"

Levi threw him a critical look, eyes narrowing. How could he possibly think he had been unfriendly when he was giving him food and shelter and clothing, and not just that but wine, ice cream, apple pie and sympathy?

"No..." he said, with a tone implying that it was the most obvious thing in the world. "But you're not going to associate with a..." Unable to find the best word, he gestured vaguely at himself. A criminal, a member of a drug empire, an altogether unpleasant person.

"Bold of you to decide who I will and won't associate with," Erwin replied, amusement lighting up his eyes. "But I will choose for myself, thank you. And I choose to stay in contact with you, if you’ll have me. You're... interesting. You're hard and soft all at once..." 

It still seemed impossible to Levi, but he decided to dwell on the positive; Erwin was apparently contemplating a future in which Levi wasn't serving life for murder. He was seemingly confident in his ability to pin the true culprit. That was an encouraging thought, at least.

Still, the scrutiny made him uncomfortable. Being around Erwin was like being scanned at all times. "You're drunk," he accused, somewhat hypocritically.

"_We're_ drunk," Erwin corrected smugly. Levi scoffed, but he couldn't deny it. He felt as if he was better at hiding his drunken state though, or perhaps the chief was simply letting his guard down more.

"It's been so long since I drank this much... I forgot how relaxing it is." Erwin finished his last glass and placed it down with a clink. He thought about his cosy, soft bed with its brushed cotton sheets and memory foam mattress. Then he thought of Levi sleeping on the floor, and he frowned. 

"Come to bed, Levi. The actual bed, I mean."

"...What?" Levi held the arm of the sofa and stared at Erwin. He didn't like to share personal space with others and especially now that he was vulnerable and unarmed. It wasn't likely that this was some elaborate plan to kill him, but still, his instincts fought against it.

He steeled his voice and his gaze. "No."

"No?" Erwin echoed, raising an eyebrow. "Surely you don't want to sleep on the sofa or that terrible inflatable mattress!" He shook his head, holding out his hands in an open gesture, trying to keep his balance as he felt just the slightest dizziness. "I feel bad when my bed is so huge, and comfortable, and warm. There’s more than enough space and I’ll keep my distance!"

"The sofa is fine." Levi meant that he could never sleep anyway, so it barely mattered whether he was in a bed or a chair or the floor. Erwin was really laying it on thick though, making it sound tempting as hell for his sleepy, cold guest.

Levi rose to his feet, the resulting head rush making him stand still for a moment as the ceiling spiralled above him. When he opened his eyes, Erwin was still looking at him, soft and insistent all at once.

Silently, resignedly, Levi pointed to the bedroom. He would accept, but he wasn't going to swallow his pride and say so.

Erwin couldn't hide his smile. He made his way into the bedroom, falling onto one side of the bed with a heavy sigh. By the time Levi returned in his pyjamas, Erwin was only semi-conscious.

"Tonight was a good night," he mumbled, fully-clothed and face-down into his pillows, words slightly slurred. "I liked it."

“Idiot.” Levi shook his head. “I hope you don’t have work tomorrow.”

A soft snoring was his only reply.


	41. Dr H Zoe (28th August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin gets an update from his favourite forensic expert.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You all have the patience of saints for sticking with this many chapters. We promise to write you a one-shot of sexy stuff to tide you over and make up for this longass slow burn.

The soles of Levi’s feet padded on the soft lino floor of the kitchen between the fridge and the countertop, pyjama trousers just slightly sweeping the floor. He sank the spoon into a full tub of coffee with a gritty crunch, shovelling a liberal amount into Erwin’s mug. It was clear the man was going to need it.

The smell of coffee seemed to summon the chief from his bedroom, and he soon appeared, still wearing his pyjama shorts and a crinkled t-shirt, with bed hair that Levi had never seen on him. His blond locks were all tousled on his forehead, creases on the side of his face from the folds of his pillow. He looked half-asleep.

Levi slid the mug across the countertop. “Coffee.”

“Thank you,” Erwin said, voice cheerful but still grizzled from sleep. He took it and settled on the sofa, eyes still adjusting to the bright light coming in through the windows. Levi claimed a spot on the armchair, curling up with his fingertips holding his own cup.

“Sorry I got a bit close last night,” Erwin said eventually, looking bashful. “It’s just a habit. I’m a hugger. I didn’t even notice until you woke up.”

Levi lowered his eyes. It was a barefaced lie but he didn’t want to look it in the face and embarrass his host. Erwin had been single for years, so he said, and he claimed not to be the hookup type. How much of a habit could it be to hug in his sleep? He couldn’t have shared a bed for ages.

“S’fine,” Levi mumbled eventually. “I didn’t notice either.”

A soft smile played on Erwin’s lips. He saw how Levi’s eyes were always scanning for danger, how his muscles tensed if Erwin so much as brushed past him in the narrow kitchen… this was a man who didn’t even answer the door without a knife in his hand. There was no chance that he had failed to notice someone latching on to him in the night. Levi was lying.

Still, he gratefully accepted Levi’s feigning ignorance. It made things much more comfortable for both of them.

“So I guess you don’t have work today then.”

Erwin shook his head while yawning widely, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. “No, but I’m planning to check in on Hanji later. She should have made some progress on Jinn and Johnson now.”

Levi’s heart stuttered, concerned about what she would find. These were the murders that might lead him to serve a lifetime in jail. Kenny was so good at getting away with it, and had tried hard to frame him, that he half-expected her to turn up Levi’s DNA on the corpses and nothing of his uncle’s.

The lack of response alerted Erwin to Levi’s state of mind. “Why don’t you come with me?” he said, thinking aloud.

“Me?” Levi frowned, looking skeptical. “I’m not a cop. I can’t do cop work.”

Erwin took a gulp of coffee, feeling more awake almost instantly. “It’s strictly a visit only. I’m going on my day off so that I don’t draw attention to it in the station.” He knew his personal involvement in the case would draw attention from Kenny’s spy on the force, and he didn’t want to risk them investigating him further. 

Levi wasn’t all too keen on going to a building that he associated with corpses and blood and guts, but he would take any excuse to see outside these walls again.

\-------------------

The first indication that they were entering the Twilight Zone was when Erwin paused, fist raised to knock at the door marked **Dr H Zoe**.

“Prepare yourself,” he said, before rapping his knuckles on the door. Levi barely had time to give him a quizzical look.

“A-hoyyyyy!”

Erwin seemed to think that was an invitation and he opened the door, making Levi instantly wish he hadn’t. He’d expected a lab but this was an office; or at least, there was an office buried under here somewhere.

There were books, some left open, piled up on every available surface. The shelves had endless odd devices and ornaments, some worn out, others ticking and clicking. Most of them clearly had no medical use, including the thing that resembled a voodoo doll, the pet rock with googly eyes, and the fake sunflowers in a vase.

The brunette behind the desk looked up brightly, eyes intensified by her thick glasses. 

“Nintendo!” she greeted enthusiastically. Levi threw Erwin a questioning look but the disparaging shake of the head that he received in return told him not to bother asking. Then her eyes swiveled his way, scanning him with an unguarded expression of curiosity.

“New guy!” 

Levi had no preconceptions about a pathologist or forensic doctor and no idea what he had been expecting, but this wasn't it.

“Dr Zoe, this is Levi. He’s helping me with the case.”

Levi expected some questions to justify his presence, but the doctor didn’t seem to mind.

“Awesome!” she said, picking up a stack of papers from one chair and moving them onto the floor, followed by a second stack from a second chair, piling them up on top. Then she turned to Levi, holding out her hand. “Nice to meet you!”

Levi eyed her hand suspiciously, then glanced at Erwin, who was looking at him encouragingly, nodding. With a sigh, he shook her hand briefly. When she sat at her desk and gestured for them to take the newly-available chairs, he spotted the hand sanitiser wipes on her desk, unashamedly reaching out and taking one, rubbing his hands with it. He couldn’t even guess what she had been doing all morning. Wrist-deep in guts, probably. And he had just shaken her hand. He shuddered at the thought.

He had so many questions. Did she think he was a cop? Or did she think he was a murderer? Was there a reason her office looked like a pig-sty? Why was she throwing papers on the floor like an idiot? Was that an actual voodoo doll on the shelf? Was the medical certificate on the wall a forgery or was this lunatic really a doctor?

He looked aside at Erwin, his eyes moving but the rest of him held still, as if moving in the crazy person's presence might draw further attention. Condensing his questions into one, he gestured at the odd specimen in front of him, mouthing, "What the fuck?"

“Dr Zoe is a forensic pathologist,” Erwin explained patiently. “She has been helping me with some of our recent cases, and is currently working on the bodies of Faye Scadden, Alicia Jinn, and Rebekka Johnson.”

“Mostly the fresh ones,” Hanji said, with phrasing that made Levi grimace. “Not that Faye wasn’t fascinating…”

Her eyes were shining with barely restrained fervour as she clenched her fists, beaming at Erwin. “I owe you for that one. I’ve never seen grave wax in real life before… and now it turns up in a washing machine! But you’ve got better odds of results on the new ones.”

“First things first, this is my day off,” Erwin said, a meaningful tone to his voice. “So I’d like this to be an off-the-record--”

“...informal chat,” Hanji interrupted, speaking along with him. “Yeah, I know what it means when you show up in civvies.” She gestured to Erwin’s jeans and casual button-down shirt. “So, uh…” She nodded her head towards Levi as if he wasn’t in the room. “What did you bring a colleague for?”

Erwin scratched his temple, looking across at Levi. “He’s… he’s not an officer. He’s… well, we’ve discussed Kenny Ackerman so often…”

Suddenly Hanji slammed both hands down on the desk, eyes shot wide with realisation.

“Ackerman!” She pointed a finger at Levi, then a grin spread across her face. “You’re his kid!”

Levi batted her finger aside, glowering up at her through narrowed eyes.

“_Nephew_,” he hissed.

“Close enough,” she said gleefully, setting her chair upright again after toppling it. “Did you ever see him kill anyone?”

"No." Levi didn't intend to elaborate, but Hanji was staring at him expectantly, as if she had too much energy coiled in her body and was ready to spring. She probably knew a decent amount from the files and wanted grisly details. Erwin did nothing to stop him, so he figured it was safe to continue.

"I ditched a couple of bodies and staged a couple of 'accidents.'" He gave her a look that demanded _are you happy now?_

Hanji audibly gasped in glee. “Moblit owes me 20!” she declared, making Levi scowl. He had no idea that the forensics office was placing bets on just what level of degenerate motherfucker he and Kenny had reached. “Which ones? I probably never got my hands on them…”

“Doctor,” Erwin said slowly in a warning tone, though he was obviously amused by the exchange. “Jinn and Johnson?”

“Right, right…” Hanji swung her chair around wildly to face the tall cabinet behind her, opening a drawer, and practically plunging her head into it.

“Not you… aha… you tried to trick me…” As she spoke to her files, sorting through an innovative filing system, Levi looked at Erwin, bewildered. The cop’s neutral expression reassured him that he hadn’t done anything wrong by confessing this much to Hanji, but still gave him no indication of what to expect from this crackpot.

Suddenly a file was slapped on the desk, breaking their silent communication. 

“Here it is!” she announced triumphantly. “I got so used to hiding files away that I hid this one too, out of habit.”

"So did you find something to nail Kenny with?" Levi was anxious to be found not guilty. The doctor showed no fear of him at all, which he hoped was an indicator that she didn't think him a crazed ladykiller. Then again, she was unorthodox. She might be excited to meet him _because_ she thought he was the murderer.

“Well… I’ll need more time on corpse one. She’s a total wreck, but I might be able to pick something up. How long do I have?”

Erwin’s knuckles turned faintly white as he clasped his hands in his lap, even though his polite smile didn’t budge an inch. “Faye Scadden isn’t on police radar so much. You can have time with her. I’m being pressured over the most recent two.”

“Uh-huh…” Hanji’s face turned serious, all business. Now she looked like a doctor, as if Levi saw the change happen right in front of his eyes. It reminded him of Erwin’s dual personas.

“Alicia Jinn - confirmed overdosed on cocaine and… well, there were a lot of other things we found in her. Nothing suspicious. Only the usual you’d expect to find in the body of an addict who didn’t have the money for a regular supply.”

She shook her head; she looked almost disappointed by this, and in a way she was.

“But Rebekka Johnson was killed at point blank range by a bullet from a handgun. There would be gunpowder on the face and eyelids of the shooter -”

Levi looked concerned. He and Kenny hadn’t been arrested until days later, so either of them could have washed it off. But it seemed Erwin’s train of thought was going in another direction.

“And can I assume that Alicia Jinn had no gunpowder on her body?”

Hanji beamed, shaking her head. “None at all. The deceased did not kill the deceased.” 

Levi remained stony-faced. "But the gun was found in the bin outside my house," he reminded Erwin. Then he remembered that this was the conversation they had back in the police station when Erwin was still pulling his strings and trying to intimidate him, and now he wondered if it had even been true.

"Wasn't it?" he asked suspiciously, staring at the chief through narrowed eyes.

Erwin was amused by the doubt in Levi’s tone. “Yes, it really was,” he confirmed. “But the chances are that we won’t find any prints on it, yours or Kenny’s. He would have wiped it. Frankly, anyone could have left it there, and he lived at that house as much as you did. The only thing really pinning you is his word.”

“That’s just the start though!” Hanji said, fingers scrabbling to turn the page. “You can see I found DNA on both bodies; loads of it. Some of it matches Kenny, and some matches Levi.”

Levi froze, feeling as if the world was spinning. How was his DNA on the bodies? He didn’t say anything aloud, but it seemed like a slippery slope towards being found guilty. He already lacked an alibi, unlike his uncle.

Hanji seemed to notice his prickle of fear. “No, no. This is normal - it’s your house after all. Both of you would have DNA all over everything. But there’s a difference between transfer DNA and touch DNA…”

He was surprised that this strange doctor was perceptive enough to sense the subtle change in his mood, and realised there was a mind at work under that wild exterior. And Erwin was enraptured, obviously hopeful, which was a reassuring sign.

“If your story is true, then all your DNA should be transfer DNA from the house, furniture, stuff like that. And Kenny’s DNA should be touch DNA, from physically interacting with them and moving their bodies. See?”

She said it far too brightly for someone talking about double murder, but Levi was starting to see why Erwin looked positive.

“I can’t believe nobody ever ordered this on the old cases,” Erwin murmured, bitterly thinking about at least two cases where Kenny would have struggled to explain the presence of touch DNA.

“You and me both, Nintendo.” Hanji looked equally frustrated. “Some of our folk were lazy with drug addicts, same as yours. But,” she paused to give a cheery thumbs-up. “Now you have me! And I’m pushing through relentless tests.”

She leaned towards Levi. “I must know though - did you ever meet either of the corpses? Did you touch them? Even a handshake could cause the entire evidence to be useless! I absolutely cannot find any touch DNA on them from you!” Her words grew more and more intense and dramatic as they went on, her eyes flashing with urgency. “Do you understand me, Levi?”

Levi leaned further and further back as Hanji leaned further and further forward, edging out of the invaded space. He had met some of Kenny's girls before, but he wouldn't remember if it was this pair or not. He certainly wouldn't have touched them in any way. But the mad woman was putting him on edge now. What if he'd brushed past the girl who wound up dead? It would be terrible luck if his DNA got on them if Kenny's didn't, but his luck hadn't been great lately. He was on edge. The whole case seemed balanced on a point, and here he was in this upside-down office, reliant on the word of a maniac.

Eventually he put a finger on her forehead and pushed her back. "Back up, four-eyes." Hanji sank backwards into her chair, looking completely unphased by it.

"I didn't see anyone that night. And I don't remember ever meeting them. It's been months since I met any of Kenny's hookers."

“In that case, no need to worry!” the doctor said breezily, waving a hand. “Regular DNA would have to be recent. So you can relax Levi. And you too, Erwin.” She laughed, as if anyone could tell when Erwin was relaxed and when he wasn’t. Her eyes were glinting again. “As long as you’re sure, Levi, then you might just have him this time!”

“Can I keep a copy of this file?” Erwin asked, undisguised optimism on his face.

“Sure, sure!” Hanji pointed to a random table in the corner of the room. Levi couldn’t tell why until Erwin approached it, moved some papers and revealed that it was a photocopier, not a table.

“Hey, so I suppose you never actually killed anyone did you?”

Levi looked over his shoulder plaintively at Erwin, silently questioning why he was being left with this overexcitable creature.

Then he turned to stare blankly at her, a dark look on his face. "No," he said. “Like I’d tell you if I had.”

Erwin wryly shook his head as he overheard Levi’s answer, voiced in a tone that suggested he might change that and start killing anytime. Erwin knew Levi was innocent, but this had to be part of his problem; he came across as much more aggressive than he was. Kenny had played nicer in his interview than Levi had. It could be so easy to paint him as a serial killer.

“Did you ever think he would kill you?” Hanji was sounding less like a scientist and more like a journalist now, rattling off questions at the speed of light. 

"I'm not easy to kill," Levi said. It was probably easier to get him in a cell than in a grave, and evidently Kenny had done that math.

“Guess not!” Hanji swivelled her chair directly into the open drawer of the filing cabinet, bumping her knees then nonchalantly closing it as if it were a regular occurrence.

“How the fuck do you work in this?” Levi asked, unable to hold back anymore.

Hanji’s tone was oblivious. “In what?” 

“This!” Levi gestured at the chaos around them. It was all he could do to refrain from picking up her clutter and filing those scattered papers right now. He pointed at the bundle thrown on the floor. “This office looks like a bombsite.”

“Yeah, it’s a bit of a state!” she admitted without embarrassment. “My assistant Moblit helps me but when there’s so much real work to do, I just don’t have time to worry about the mess. He’s a doctor too. He’s got better things to do than _tidying_.” She uttered the word with complete contempt.

Erwin returned with Hanji’s file and a stack of copies still warm from the copier, chuckling over their conversation.

“Levi is quite the neat freak. I visited his safehouse recently and you should see how clean it is.”

Levi raised an eyebrow at how easily the lies spilled from Erwin’s lips. Apparently he was lying about Levi’s whereabouts to everyone, even his mad scientist.

“Oho!” Hanji pointed above her head, imagining a lightbulb flicking on. “Sounds like Moblit and I could use your help sometime.”

Levi rolled his eyes. Didn’t anyone in this world know how to clean properly?

“Fixing _this_ shit-tip?” he asked, incredulity penetrating every syllable. “I’ll take prison.” 

Hanji and Erwin both laughed, although Hanji’s was more like a cackle. “That could be arranged,” she said warningly. “I could always frame you.”

“Please do not frame my star witness, Doctor,” Erwin said, mock-scolding her. “Now how long do you need to get the extra DNA tests?”

Hanji tapped her pencil thoughtfully on her lip. “Two or three days. Is this one a kipper?”

Erwin nodded, then turned to explain for Levi’s benefit. “I write CIP - collect in person - on certain files. It means that the documents aren’t sent by email, and aren’t sent direct to the station.”

“And kipper is more catchy,” Hanji declared. “No worries. I’ll keep it here for you or Stretch.”

Erwin held up a palm, lowering his voice. “No, Hanji. _Only_ me.”

Hanji’s expression darkened, and she steepled her fingers, glasses glinting in the light as she leaned in. “It’s like that, is it?” she asked, voice deep and secretive all of a sudden.

Erwin nodded solemnly. “I’m afraid it is.”

\-------------------

Back in the car, Levi pulled up that thread again. “What the fuck was that about?”

“Quite the character, isn’t she?” Erwin said. “I know the office looks terrible, but I assure you, the labs are sparkling clean and disinfected. She just has no talent for organisation. All she cares about is the science, and the results.”

Levi was at least glad that she was a reliable pathologist, since proving his innocence seemed to hinge on her skills, but he felt like Erwin was deflecting.

“Not _that_. I mean right before we left. Why were you talking like... a conspiracy?”

Erwin sighed, spending a long time choosing his words then deciding to come clean.

“We don’t know how much detail Kenny gets from the station, or what methods his spy uses. Before I attempt to press charges on him, I will have to root out this traitor, and I can’t trust any of my colleagues.”

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that the one Hanji called ‘Stretch’ was probably Mike. Levi recalled that he and Erwin had been friends since school, but apparently even he didn’t make the list.

“Hanji is an outsider. She began here much later than Kenny’s interference started. She is the only person I know is clean, beyond all doubt.” 

Describing Hanji as ‘clean’ nearly earned Erwin a sarcastic comment, but Levi decided this was too serious to be making fun.

“And I will need her help in putting my colleagues to the test eventually.” Erwin tapped his fingers on the steering wheel as they waited at the lights, red glow peering down on both of them.

Hesitantly, Levi voiced his thought. “Even--”

“Yes, that’s right,” Erwin interrupted him with an unusual urgency. He didn’t want to hear it said aloud, and face up to the painful fact that every single officer, including trusted colleagues of many years, were potential traitors until proven otherwise.


	42. Once More (31st August 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi finds out his time at Erwin's house is coming to an end.

Erwin hadn’t had a moment to spare all day, and by the time he was opening the door to his apartment, it was past 8pm. He hurried in, stomach growling.

“Hi Levi!” he called out as he stepped inside, locking the door behind him. He kicked off as shoes as he looked around. There were two cups of tea on the table - cold, judging by the lack of steam rising from the cups - and Levi was standing in the living room with a bottle of anti-bacterial spray.

While he may have looked normal to an outside observer, inside, Levi’s thoughts were spiralling, clambering over each other in a haze of anxiety. He had dismissed it at first; _Erwin just got caught late in the office, the traffic was particularly bad, his car broke down._ He tried to watch TV, first local news to find out if there was any mention of an accident that could have delayed him. But nothing. Eventually, finding that the droning of the TV was skimming over his head and doing nothing to occupy his thoughts, he had resorted to cleaning.

Now he was staring at his host, cloth and disinfectant still in hand.

“Where the _fuck_ have you been?” he demanded.

“Oh,” said Erwin with surprise, the smile he had been wearing quailing in the face of Levi’s obvious bad mood. “I… I’ve been stuck in traffic. Nothing to worry about.”

Levi simply stared at him. He was being lied to, and not very successfully. He noticed the cop looking at the items in his hands.

“You’ve been cleaning,” he said; it wasn’t a question. “Surely the house is already...” Even as he spoke he made sense of the scene and trailed off, realising that Levi wasn’t cleaning out of necessity, and feeling a pang of guilt over it.

“Don’t fuck with me. Your tea is cold. Your plate has been in the oven for _two hours._”

Perhaps, Erwin thought, he should have mentioned he might be late. But even if it had occurred to him, he had no way of getting hold of Levi.

“I don’t have a way to reach you…” he said, the excuse sounding feeble even as he presented it.

“Then I am not staying here without a phone anymore. Do you understand me?”

“Levi...” Erwin was trying to stay measured and reasonable, but the demanding tone grated on him the wrong way. “I have told you why you can’t have a phone while you stay here. It’s dangerous. I can’t justify it just because I was a few hours late home from work.”

Levi’s eyes narrowed dangerously, and he slammed the bottle down on the worktop so he could minimise the risk of him throwing it at Erwin’s stupid face.

“You could have been dead.” He stabbed his finger angrily in the blond’s direction. He had pictured him shot at his desk, or stabbed in an alleyway, or being rushed to hospital while Levi was at home, oblivious to it and unable to help. “You can stay in touch somehow. You just don’t care enough to try. So get me a fucking phone or I am leaving.”

Erwin held Levi’s gaze firmly, refusing to look away. Deep down he knew that this anger was at least a little bit fair, and he did feel terrible for worrying him, but being greeted with so much rage put him on the defensive.

He had noticed that he and Levi had a fair share of clashes now. Mostly they were about small life habits, so to him it was only expected; they started out as a pair of strangers, and had to grow accustomed to each other at an accelerated rate. There was no chance for a slow progression or natural friendship to evolve. In fact, they suffered much less friction than he had expected for two people forced into close quarters, and while Levi’s temper was a considerable force, it was almost always short-lived. His usual stoic mood returned as soon as Erwin made reasonable amends. 

He thought quickly about what ‘reasonable amends’ might be in this situation. He could call Levi’s bluff and refuse him a phone. After all, he didn’t think Levi would actually leave, despite the threat. Then again, he didn’t want to annoy his guest, not without good reason. And perhaps he really could use backup if something went wrong. He _knew_ Kenny was going to end up targeting him eventually, even though he suspected he had a bit more time before doomsday.

“Alright,” he finally conceded, swallowing down his emotions. “But a very basic phone. Calls and texts only, no internet connection. And when I come home each night I’ll check through it - not that I don’t _trust_ you, but you should understand I would be stupid not to do so under the circumstances.”

Inwardly, Levi decided that a useless phone would be good enough, if Erwin insisted on being so cautious, but outwardly his ferocious glare remained the same. “Fine,” he said coldly, before going over to the table, taking the cold tea and taking it to the kitchen.

Erwin followed him, pressing gently. “I can see I worried you and I apologise, but I’m fine. Completely unhurt.” He heard the cold tea chugging down the drain, cringing slightly at the sad thought. If there was anything Levi hated more than dirty dishes it was wasted tea, so Erwin was sure he had left it there to make a point.

Levi flicked the oven switch off, and with a tea towel, he took the warmed plate out, setting it on the worktop in front of Erwin with a clatter. “You’re a selfish prick,” he hissed, before storming out into the bedroom and slamming the door behind him.

No matter how many times he saw it, the level of pure fury that Levi displayed always shocked Erwin. He winced at the noise of the door slamming, practically vibrating the floor. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling tired and worn, as if he had lived through the longest day today. He felt so ill-equipped to deal with these kinds of personal issues. Whenever something arose at work he knew what to do, there were always professional procedures in place, but here? It was unfamiliar territory. Not only that, but dealing with Levi was far from dealing with the average person.

He wondered if he was being a selfish prick, as Levi so eloquently put it. Perhaps so. He felt deflated to consider it, and more than a little ashamed, but he wasn’t in denial. He knew he could get wrapped up in his own plots and plans, and forget that the pieces were people, even himself. Even Levi.

And Levi’s future rested on his shoulders. He had enlisted him in his plans, and if something happened to Erwin before the case was completed then who knew what would go on in his absence; perhaps Kenny would get away with these murders, and Levi would end up in prison. Even if Levi wasn’t found guilty, he would end up back in his old life, with or without Kenny. Alone again.

After a few minutes of thinking, ignoring the food that was steaming away on the table, Erwin went over to the door and knocked.

Levi was sitting cross-legged on the bedroom floor. Sitting on the bed would have felt like accepting something from Erwin, and he was too angry to take more gifts from him.

Betrayed might have been a better word. Somehow he felt betrayed. And shaken. In the time it had taken for Erwin to return, he had convinced himself that the younger Smith had followed in Adrian’s footsteps; crossing the mob and paying with his life. He had tried to distract himself from all the uncomfortable questions. Would Kenny be convicted in Erwin’s absence? Would Levi be the one who did life for murder? Would he go to a funeral for Erwin Smith, chief of police, when it was his own family who killed the man? Had he unknowingly said goodbye for the last time this morning?

Erwin’s footsteps signalled his arrival long before the actual knock came.

“I would like to come in.” 

His voice echoed through the door and Levi steadfastly ignored it, eyes half closed. It was the shitty excuses that bothered him most. Traffic hadn’t lasted two hours. Levi had been naive enough to give Erwin too much information about himself, and now he thought his criminal friend was stupid. Easy to deceive.

After receiving no reply, Erwin entered anyway. Levi supposed he couldn’t begrudge the man for entering his own room without permission, but it only made him more acutely aware that he had nowhere to run in this apartment.

“Levi,” the blond said softly, moving to sit beside him. They were both on the same level, but being taller, Erwin looked much more awkward sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Talk to me. I’m not going anywhere until you do.”

“I _have_ talked to you,” came Levi’s stiff reply, as he pointedly avoided eye contact. “I said you are a selfish prick.” The finality of his tone made it clear that this was all he had to say on the matter, but the tone meant nothing to Erwin. He had patience and determination to spare.

“And I would like to apologise for that,” he said. “I’m sorry that I worried you by being so late home, I didn’t think that it might bother you - I’m not used to having anyone here to worry about me.”

Levi thought over that. It made sense; Erwin did live alone, and might not be used to letting anyone know about his whereabouts. At least now he was being more honest, not lying about traffic.

“But I realise now just how much you have riding on me,” Erwin continued. He barely paused for breath before Levi interrupted him.

“This isn’t self-interest.” He looked up, slightly offended as he finally met Erwin’s gaze. “I don’t want you to die. I don’t want _anyone_ to die.” Perhaps the chief didn’t understand that, given that Levi had evolved in a world of violence and had seemingly done so little to stem the tide, but it was still the truth.

“Huh.” Erwin smiled to himself. “You believe I haven’t worked that out already? After everything you have told me, I know how much you detest death. I should have been considerate of that fact.”

Then he paused, putting on a more stern expression. “Though to be clear, I have no reason to believe that Kenny knows I’m his enemy. And… even if this was self-interest, I couldn’t blame you. You have put a lot of faith in me. I know that being an informant is no small risk on your part.”

Levi rolled his eyes, feeling now as if he was being preached at. Whenever he gave Erwin ten words, he got forty in reply.

“Then give me a phone. A shitty one. Whatever. I don’t care.” He jabbed a finger at Erwin’s shoulder. “And if you do this again I’ll break your legs.”

The blunt reply, put so plainly, amused Erwin so much that he couldn’t help laughing. The sound bubbled from him until he was chuckling openly, hand on his chest, leaning back as his body shook.

“OK, OK,” he managed to say at last. “I won’t do it again - you have my word. And a phone, tomorrow. I don’t want my legs breaking over something like this, so consider that my incentive to get things right.”

Now it was Erwin’s turn to look away, humiliated by his unskilled handling of this situation. “No one has ever called me selfish before, but I’m afraid you might be right. I’m not so practised when it comes to interpersonal issues.”

“Me neither.” Levi rose from the floor, grabbing Erwin’s arm and pulling him up none too gently. “Move, you big lump,” he said, voice strained with the effort as Erwin gracelessly got to his feet. “I’m not reheating that shit a third time. And I’m starving.”

“Yeah, me too,” Erwin confessed, stumbling to his feet and following Levi back through to the kitchen. Now he realised that if Levi hadn’t eaten then it was because he had been worrying about Erwin. Despite his guilt, he felt some warmth over the idea that someone would miss him if he were gone. He decided not to mention it, but he did smile at him as they sat down together at last.

\-----------------------------

Later, when the television was on, tuned in to some game show that Erwin usually enjoyed, he found that he couldn’t concentrate on it. His eyes were glazed and his thoughts had wandered far astray. He glanced now and again at Levi who was sitting beside him, reading a book, his lips moving occasionally as he mouthed words. The fact that they had so easily moved on after their little argument somehow made it much harder to voice his news out loud.

Eventually, he took the plunge. He muted the TV, his movement catching Levi’s eye.

“I need to discuss something with you,” Erwin said. “I was home late today because something happened.”

Levi had guessed as much, but awaited his explanation anyway, glad to finally get the truth.

“Armin - that’s my investigator - he managed to get in touch with Eld Jinn.”

Levi recognised the surname. She was the one who had overdosed, the one that Levi had supposedly allowed to die, before murdering her friend. This Eld must be a relative. “Father?” he guessed.

“Younger brother,” Erwin confirmed. “I met with him after work, and I told him the situation with his sister. The _honest_ situation.” He didn’t elaborate on how much groundwork Armin had done in preparing Eld for the level of conspiracy they were delving into, and convincing him to meet with Erwin off-the-clock. One wrong word to the wrong people, and not only would the plan fall apart, but Erwin wouldn’t know it had collapsed until it was too late.

“He agreed to help, to do anything he could to bring her killer to justice, and… I want to make it look as if we’ve charged him and released you in his stead.” Erwin wanted to know what Levi thought so far, before he revealed the rest, and so he paused there.

“Why?” Levi asked, straight to the point as always.

Erwin’s heart hammered in his chest as he spoke, though he couldn’t tell why his nerves were so frayed when he had rehearsed this request in the car on the way home. “I need... I need you to go back to Kenny, and integrate back into his group.”

Levi had guessed that the goal was to use him as a spy, but if Erwin thought he’d get away with something as brazen as wearing a wire and asking stupid questions, then he was sorely mistaken. That would never work, especially now. His uncle wasn’t that naive.

“Yes, I know,” he said. “What I mean is _why_. What do you need a spy for?”

The answer surprised Erwin; he didn’t think Levi would take the request so lightly. 

“I want you to help me find out who Kenny’s insider on the force is.” Erwin decided to tell him openly what he was thinking. “We have so many promising threads… Hanji’s transfer DNA, your new testimony, Armin’s work, all my background research… I can’t risk the possibility that it will come to nothing just because someone at the police station jeopardises it. Until I know who they are, I have no idea how much power they possess.”

It sounded like an uphill struggle to Levi, and for once his expression made his feelings clear. “I told you already, Kenny doesn’t keep written records. Or if he does, then nobody alive knows where they are...”

Erwin waved a hand. He knew exactly how well Kenny could hide his tracks. It felt like only yesterday that he and Armin had watched Kenny at night, plucking all his cash and drugs from fake drainpipes on the outside of his building. It was a stroke of genius that he wouldn’t have expected from a drug dealer until that day.

That could have been the end of it. It _should_ have been the end of it. But Kenny’s insider had shattered his plans, only aided by police incompetence and since then, Ackerman had claimed ten more victims.

Erwin’s eyes turned dark as he thought about them. This wasn’t Shadis’ station anymore; it was his. He wasn’t going to underestimate his enemy again.

“I don’t need hard evidence,” he said grimly. “I just need you to help me narrow it down. I have a plan.”

Hearing that Erwin had a plan was instantly reassuring, but Levi hoped that he wasn’t underestimating Kenny. Not only did Levi himself not know the identity of the police informant, but he hadn’t even known for certain that there was one until Erwin had told him. There were only rumours. That was Kenny’s level of secrecy.

“Do you know how he speaks to his contacts?” Erwin asked.

“He contacts me by phone. Calls only. He won’t commit to putting things in writing. But he uses burner phones too. Destroys them after use.”

Levi suspected Kenny would have a separate phone just for the police informant. There was no chance of breaking into his uncle’s room or finding it unattended; Kenny was far too careful, and there wasn’t a guarantee it was in their house. All the illicit stuff could be stored in one of the many warehouses. Finding anything could take months.

It seemed hopeless, but Erwin was nodding, as if he was taking notes. Apparently this information didn’t interfere with his plan, but he wasn’t sharing.

“This is where you tell me you’ll handle it,” Levi prompted. That was what he wanted to hear, anyway.

“Hm?” Erwin snapped out of his thoughts, amused by Levi’s instruction. “Yes. I’ll handle it. And I’ll stay in touch with you. Is this something you can do?”

Levi kept a watchful eye on his host. The chief had handled this well so far, and Levi was inclined to trust him. At first he felt a deep-seated hopelessness, as if this was a battle they were doomed to lose, but a second later, like a shot of adrenaline, he decided he would do anything to try and help.

“Yeah. I can do it.” 

Erwin breathed deeply for the first time since the start of their conversation, now feeling as if everything was in motion. But then Levi surprised him again.

“Is Eld Jinn going to move in here instead?”

“No!” Erwin replied quickly, immediately realising he had sounded too eager to deny that. “...No. You are a special case. Eld Jinn will go into a safehouse.”

It wasn’t a lie, he thought. Levi was a special case. More and more so by the day.

“I don’t let just anyone into my home,” he added.

That didn’t make any sense to Levi. “What, criminals only?” he asked mockingly.

Erwin rolled his eyes, mimicking something Levi did to him multiple times a day. “No… but you’re a high risk asset.”

“Not so high risk that I can’t go back in, huh.” There was no anger in Levi’s voice. If anything, Erwin’s willingness to take that risk only proved that it was necessary. It had been twenty years of investigation; above all else, the chief was careful. 

“Be assured, I wouldn’t put you in danger unless I had to,” Erwin said softly, placing his hand on Levi’s knee briefly. “I have no desire to see you hurt.” 

“I’ll live.” Levi said it with a fair amount of certainty. Kenny wasn’t stupid enough to assassinate him with all this pressure, especially if he thought the police’s eyes had turned elsewhere. “And you will have your place to yourself again.”

“I’m not sure I’ll enjoy that so much,” Erwin confessed with a chuckle. “I think the place will feel empty without you, I’ll have to get used to it, but I think it’ll take me some time. I’d much rather have you here than not. I hadn’t realised how lonely I was until I brought you here.” He held Levi’s gaze. It was nice to have someone to talk to in the evenings, someone who made him feel comfortable and at ease with himself.

His words were enough to reassure Levi that he wasn’t the only one who had gotten attached. He was the first to break their eye contact, looking away and instead reaching out to put his hand on Erwin’s larger one.

Erwin’s heart pulsed at the voluntary show of affection. It had turned into a strangely wistful evening, and now he was imagining Levi back there with Kenny, back on the frontlines. He resolved to get him back as soon as possible.

“It’ll be strange living there again,” Levi said quietly, fingertip tracing the veins on the back of Erwin’s hand.

“I’ll have you home in no time at all,” Erwin promised, silently willing Levi to somehow feel his intentions, to believe that his words were heartfelt.

_Home,_ Levi mouthed, like a word from his books. He had known that he was on borrowed time in this little haven of cleanliness, but now it was as if he could see his sanctuary dying before his eyes. He was going to miss their strange little routines here. He had even gotten used to the fact that Erwin left his shoes in strange places, and kept too many bottles of fancy products in the shower, and left tea spills for more than an hour sometimes.

There were nice things that he would miss too; cooking for someone, the little bits of praise he got for his sketching, his reading lessons. And as long as it had taken for him to get used to sleeping next to someone, now he was going to have to adjust to sleeping alone again.


	43. Unto the Breach (2nd September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi and Kenny meet again for the first time in a while. Erwin faces some scrutiny from his colleagues about his handling of the investigation.

Mike arrived around midday, at Erwin’s behest. Far from the eyes of the new ‘roommate’, he handed his chief a note torn out from his book, with his own small scruffy handwriting on it. It was a long list of names.

"Half the precinct has been in the files," he murmured. "Including you, me, and almost all the rookies. Nile’s even gone snooping."

It was no less than they had expected. When news of the murders hit, everyone had gone into the database to read about it, and most had gone back in there a few times since to check for updates. If one of these people was corrupt, they were buried amongst a whole list of people who were just plain nosy.

“Thanks, Mike.” Erwin took the note and stuffed it into his pocket. “I’ll look at it properly later.”

He noticed his friend using his height advantage to look over his shoulder, and turned to see Levi walking past, pacing the house.

“I’ll… send him on out in a minute.”

Mike frowned, but didn’t argue. “I’ll be at the car.”

Levi was folding up all the clothes Erwin had bought him. The detective insisted that he leave them behind. He assumed it was so that Kenny wouldn't get suspicious. Now he possessed just the clothes on his back and the few items he had carried when he was arrested, two long weeks ago.

All morning he had been shuffling around, looking sadly at the tea boxes, the neat bed, the clean sofa, the big spacious rooms and bright windows. It had become a home, in a strange way. Not his home, because Levi didn't have a home, but _homely_. Now he was going back to the opposite. A world of drugs and parties and moral decrepitude. The home of a man who tried to frame him for murder. His only living family.

To Erwin he resembled a lost spirit, one of those ghosts with unfinished business, wandering between the kitchen and the bedroom and the living room. All the while he was thinking about how empty this place was going to feel until Levi came back.

It was disconcerting how quickly he had grown used to him - more than that, fond of him. Levi was quiet and unassuming, but he made a stark impression. Now and then when Erwin stole a secret glance, he saw such a look of peace; normally when he had a cup of tea held up to his face, fingers clutching the rim, the steam rising against his palm and drifting away. That was the Levi he was going to picture when he was lonely.

But the real Levi was standing awkwardly in the door to his house, ready to leave. Mike was going to chauffeur him to a safe distance from Winterford, delivering him back into his uncle's hands.

“So…” He looked up at Erwin’s unreadable expression, the softness of his blond wispy hair and vibrancy of his eyes, the bright sunlight streaming through broad windows behind him. Levi didn’t want to leave this world of colour and light for the stained and jagged sharp world of Kenny Ackerman. If Erwin was right, then it would be temporary.

He half wanted to thank him, for the compassion and patience and even the reading lessons and the tea. But it sounded strange to thank your arresting officer. It also sounded like the words of someone who wasn't going to see him ever again. It was inviting doom.

"Don't do anything stupid," he said instead.

“I never do stupid things,” Erwin replied, smiling, holding back the pang of sadness he felt whenever he thought of the world Levi was about to re-enter. He wanted almost nothing more than to keep him here, safe and comfortable and peaceful.

"Tch." Levi rolled his eyes. Erwin wasn't an idiot, but he wasn't immune to risk. His job was dangerous, and it was only going to get more dangerous from here on out.

“Don’t you do anything stupid either,” Erwin counselled. “Just stay safe. The risk should be minimal, but if you are in any danger, prioritise your own safety.”

He wasn’t sure how to, or if he even wanted to, express anything else that he was feeling.

“And… I will text you quite often. Just to be sure that everything is going fine.”

"I know the plan."

Levi turned back briefly before leaving.

"Stay in touch."

\----------------------------------------------

Erwin allowed himself an hour to gather his emotions and lock them in a box. He was almost glad that he was working late; he could use the bustle of the station. According to his diary, he had a meeting about a conference today, so he’d best not draw attention to himself by missing it.

He arrived only just in time. Almost as soon as his computer started up, Nile walked into the room.

"Good morning," he greeted cheerfully, but the way Nile walked straight in without knocking, coupled with the look on his face - an even deeper scowl than usual - both indicated that this was going to be no ordinary conversation.

"Morning." Nile said it without an ounce of feeling, setting his notes on Erwin's desk rather than shaking hands. Erwin looked quizzically at him.

"Is something wrong?”

"This isn't about the PF conference." He saw Erwin open his mouth, reaching out for his prepared papers for the meeting, clearly about to protest. Nile gestured impatiently. "That was an excuse."

He stood up again, glancing down the corridor through the office's glass window, then pulled down the blind and twisted the lock on the door. The second he turned around, his attitude grew even more sour.

"What were you thinking? You released one Ackerman without charge, and you put the other into a _safehouse?_" Incredulousness seeped out of every syllable. He took the chair again, now speaking quietly and urgently.

Erwin stared, taken aback by the shift in expected conversation.

"Ah," he said, sitting down again, his smile fading into a more serious look, eyebrows pulled downwards. "I see." 

"Erwin, you may think that the rules don't apply to your division, but I assure you that they do. One of them is a murderer, and you have released them. Into the public. Now I don't care..." He started holding up fingers, counting. "...if it's some long game, or if you've got quotas, or if this is about your mad gang theories. Kenny Ackerman could kill someone while you're babysitting his nephew. Or the nephew might be playing you, and _he'll_ hurt someone. And then the whole force will have hell to pay. For God's sake. Make an arrest."

Erwin didn’t interrupt, but this was the last day he needed an interrogation from a colleague. This was really none of Nile’s business; he was chief of a completely different area. Although his region was under Kenny’s influence, barely any of the murders had happened there. Jinn and Johnson in particular were right in the middle of Erwin’s own district.

"Thank you for your input," he said in a polite but sharp tone. "I will take it into consideration. But, as you should know, I had no choice but to release Kenny Ackerman - he has an alibi. And as for Levi Ackerman… he is an integral witness. The safehouse is required.”

This was all much harder to discuss on a day when he had just released Levi back to Kenny. If Nile insisted on seeing this ‘witness’, Erwin would be unable to produce him. He had to be persuasive.

“I know what I am doing. Trust me." He smiled at him, but the expression didn't reach his eyes, which connected with Nile’s cold steely ones. Both knew the other had his guard up, and neither would look away.

Nile hadn't known that Kenny Ackerman had an alibi, though he guessed that something had forced the other chief's hand and guaranteed his release. Other than that, he had tried not to pry too much into the case. The more he saw, the more of Erwin's unorthodox dealings he would uncover. He tried to minimise his involvement so he could incriminate Erwin as little as possible if it ever came to a conduct hearing. The way his fellow chief behaved, it was bound to happen one of these days.

"If Levi Ackerman’s safety is so paramount, then tell me... why are none of the safehouses booked out?"

Erwin hadn’t banked on this level of investigation. Witness protection information was as classified as could be, only available to Chief Supers or higher. Unfortunately, Nile happened to be among them.

Nile took that silence as a sign that he’d found a little chink in his colleague’s armour. Erwin was always scheming, but there were some secrets even he couldn't keep.

"Erwin. _Where_ is Levi Ackerman."

Erwin didn’t want to answer; he didn’t _like_ the answer. He would never have admitted that Levi was at his house, and even that wasn’t true anymore. If he admitted that he’d released Levi alongside Kenny, and both were free on the streets now, then that bulging vein in Nile’s head might just burst.

"He is in a safehouse,” Erwin lied. “I simply haven't declared its whereabouts." 

He glanced compulsively towards the locked door, as if someone might be standing just behind it to listen in. Hopefully Nile would think he was just being overcautious, and never suspect the actual scale of Erwin’s fabrications.

"You remember what I told you about my fear that not everyone on the force is… above reproach, so to speak? I have kept the information about the case as quiet as possible." He didn't look away from Nile the entire time he was speaking, trying to appear honest.

"Yes. I am aware of your conspiracy theories." Nile's lip curled into a sneer. The term was too harsh, since he knew Erwin had evidence on his side to suspect an informant. Still, his friend's cavalier attitude towards the rules was practically unforgivable and easy to mock.

"You may be right. You may not be able to trust every police officer. But I will tell you this; you certainly can _not_ trust a convicted criminal, wanted for murder."

He could scarcely believe that he had to explain this to Erwin. People like Shadis had too little sympathy for crooks and junkies, even Nile could agree with that. But this current chief had too much.

"Safehouses don't just stop outsiders from getting to witnesses. They stop witnesses from leaving. Swear to me that there is someone to keep Ackerman wherever you have put him. Because if he goes AWOL..."

The words hung like an empty threat. Nile didn't need to tell Erwin what would happen. One suspect would be missing, and the other would be above reproach without the key witness. Nobody would go down for those murders, and the force would look incompetent beyond belief.

"I appreciate your concern," said Erwin, maintaining his firm but pleasant front with some difficulty. "I'm aware of the stakes involved in this case - as you should know." Other than Mike, Nile was the only person who had any inkling of Erwin's connection to Kenny.

It earned him no sympathy, but Nile had the good grace to look reluctant while he pressured further. "That is precisely what bothers me," he declared, eyes cast down.

As far as Nile could tell, Erwin's personal involvement in the case was not a dealbreaker. If police hiring procedures excluded everyone who had ever been affected by a crime, then nobody would be eligible. Besides, Erwin was excellent at his job to an almost annoying extent, and Nile knew it. But now that Kenny Ackerman was involved, he couldn't shake the feeling that Erwin was digging too deep, clutching at false hope, even after all these years.

“If you are curious, I will provide you with the safehouse address, as long as it goes no further than you. I must warn that if you do decide to check in, Mr Ackerman can be quite... surly." A genuine smile cracked through his expression as he thought about Levi. He had to hope that calling Nile’s bluff would work, and that his colleague wasn’t suspicious enough to inconvenience himself with a trip to the safehouse, not with his own busy job and busy family life to attend to.

“Are there any other concerns on your mind? I’ll be happy to ease your troubles as to my competence.”

Nile scoffed. Erwin’s competence was never in question; only his hazardous means of reaching his goals.

"I'll keep quiet about your safehouse," he said finally. He had no idea if Erwin was right about the conspiracy or not, but as far as he was concerned, Kenny Ackerman was either a high-functioning criminal or a low-functioning one. In either case, Nile was not on Kenny’s side. By default, that left him on Erwin's, despite his irritation with the chief's crazy methods.

“You’ve always been much more trustworthy than you might seem,” said Erwin in a good-natured way. Nile wasn't sure how to take that backhanded compliment, so he let it pass without comment.

"I might ask for that address so I can pay a visit. We'll see. Maybe next week."

“Please do.” Erwin smiled politely, but his voice was laden, like he was issuing a challenge.

Nile sighed, remaining as tense and upright as before. He hated these conversations with Erwin. It felt like playing chess and repeatedly losing. He wondered why it felt that way with someone who was meant to be his ally.

"You cannot keep playing hard and fast with the rules like this,” he protested weakly, as if exhausted. “We have procedures for a reason."

It wasn’t that Erwin _disagreed_ with that. He respected that rules and procedures were necessary and why, but he could also see clearly how and when they just didn’t work. Every rule had an exception to it.

“I have reasons,” he said slowly, “for everything that I do. When have you ever known me to make a mistake? You must see that Kenny Ackerman cannot be allowed to continue to commit crimes and get away with it.”

"I am not convinced that he has killed anyone, let alone as many as you seem to think." He wasn't certain what Erwin's theories were, but the other chief talked about Kenny Ackerman as if he were some kind of serial killer. Nile suspected that Ackerman would have been caught by now if that were true. Most murderers didn't just get away with it.

"Besides,” he continued, “it is not up to you to decide. You are here to serve a public function within the confines of the law, not perform intellectual backflips just to prove that you can."

Erwin resented the implication that this was some grand scheme just to prove his intelligence; possibly because there was a grain of truth in it, acting as salt in the wound. “Catching him within the rules’ strict confines has failed. I’m willing to do what is necessary to stop him before he kills anyone else.”

Nile covered his eyes briefly at those words. "I will pretend I didn't hear that. The less I know about your rulebreaking, the better."

“Only a mad man repeats an action he knows has already failed; if I keep repeating only what we have done before, Kenny Ackerman _will_ remain free. I must do things differently. So I ask you; are we just here to serve the public by adhering to rules we know will fail, or are we here to protect them from men like him?”

Nile groaned. They were in speech territory now. Somehow, even when caught unawares, Erwin always managed to give him some sermon off-the-cuff, unrehearsed and still littered with rhetorical tricks. It never failed to aggravate him. Sometimes he thought his friend would have made a better politician than officer.

"Spare me the philosophy. This isn't my division, and I've got quite enough to do." Nile had no intention of answering Erwin’s comments head-on. Neither of them could change each other’s mind anyway.

"Do what you want. I know you will. But don't be naive enough to play these criminals against each other." Nile wished, just sometimes, that Erwin would have a smaller focus. It wasn't as if his own division was immune to the gang's activities. Violence and narcotics spread rampant, but Nile had stuck to putting out fires. Good drug taskforces could ease the burden by going hard on the addicts, making possession less appealing to the average user, but no. His friend was not content with that. He wanted to take it to the very top, remove the kingpin, not punish the users. 'Damage control' was apparently not a phrase in Erwin's lexicon.

He grasped at his short dark hair, fingers pressed against his head as if he was ready to implode. "When the time comes I hope they don't ask me to sit on your disciplinary council." He meant it. It was going to happen sooner or later.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” said Erwin with a chuckle. “But if that day comes I expect you to act with honesty. I certainly won’t lie about anything by that point.”

Erwin wondered if Nile’s visit betrayed a concern for his wellbeing, a residual consideration left over from days when they had been closer friends. They had drifted apart, not for any good reason, but the necessity of busy lives and separate worlds. Nile had been chief of police much longer than Erwin, and aside from that he was a husband and father. He had no idea how the man found the time.

“By the way, how is your family?” he asked. “Marie and your girls? You must remind me how old they are now...?”

"Fine, fine." Nile’s whole demeanour settled. It was much easier to talk about personal matters than it was to broach something thorny like work with Erwin. "Twelve, eight, and five, and quite the handful."

He searched for a polite response, but he knew there was no spouse, no children, nor even any siblings or older family to ask about in return. Erwin’s life seemed so empty, and Nile pitied that on his behalf.

“I don’t suppose there’s anyone…?” he trailed off, letting Erwin catch his drift.

The blond tried to chuckle lightheartedly, but it caught in his throat. “No.”

It sounded too severe without a laugh to soften it, so he added, “but I’m quite content. Don’t worry on my account.”

This conversation was too difficult for Erwin, just a few hours after separating from Levi. He needed to extricate himself.

“Now please, if this isn’t urgent as I thought, then… I really must be getting on.”

Assuming that he was being dismissed because Erwin didn’t want to discuss Ackerman, Nile was reluctant to let his friend off the hook.

“Did you pay any attention to what--”

“_Nile_.” Erwin cut in sharply, biting back his temper. “Unless you’ve had some kind of promotion and became my superior overnight, then please allow me to run my own district.”

It startled Nile, unused to these kinds of displays from his colleague. The pair sat in an awkward silence.

“I’m not your _boss_,” he said eventually, looking shifty. He always was inelegant when it came to displays of compassion. “I’m a friend.”

Erwin felt a little guilty for his outburst - if it could be called that. From the outside, his own actions must have looked perplexing, and Nile probably thought he needed all the advice he could get. But he hadn’t seen a fraction of the strings Erwin was threading together behind the scenes.

“And a very good one too,” he murmured, by way of apology. “But please.” And now his voice did sound pleading, as if he very much needed Nile to honour his request. “If you don’t mind. I have work to do.”

\----------------------------------------------

The key clicked in the lock and the aging door creaked open. A large boot kicked the nearby bag out of sight, just in case this was unwanted company.

Kenny knew the whereabouts of everyone who had access to this place, and none of them should be here now. But then Levi rounded the corner, taking off his shoes and looking judgmentally at the state of the place. His attitude was all casual, as if he hadn’t been missing for a fortnight.

“Fuck me!” Kenny declared as his nephew came into sight. “Levi, what the hell, eh? When did they let you out?”

He was floored, but his face broke into a grin. Having Levi back was probably good news. It was starting to look like this was going to be another unsolved murder, and he didn’t want to lose his nephew if he could help it.

Levi kept a straight face as Kenny spoke. He was used to it, and had been rehearsing what to say during the painfully long car journey with Mike.

“Came straight here,” he replied. “They’ve arrested someone and let me go.” He emptied his pockets of the items he had been carrying when arrested; phone, wallet, house keys.

“Need a shower,” he muttered, heading back out to the corridor.

“Oi, oi!” Kenny crossed the gap between them in just a few strides. “Not so fast, not before you’ve spent some time with your old uncle. We need a little chat about what’s been happenin’.”

As the surprise wore off, suspicion was creeping into Kenny’s thoughts. He’d always trusted Levi but only so far. The brat was so unpredictable sometimes. He had this unwritten ethical code, and Kenny never knew the rules until he’d broken one and they ended up in a fight.

Upon reaching him, Kenny very firmly grabbed and hugged him. Levi’s eyes widened and he froze, sure that this was more out of self-preservation than affection. His mistrust was only verified when he felt Kenny’s large palms patting his back. It might have looked like a tense embrace from a man who didn’t hug often, but Levi knew better. He was searching for a wire.

“I’m all filthy,” he complained, then relented with a sigh. He restrained the natural urge to throw Kenny off, which would definitely arouse suspicion.

Once released he dusted himself off, grimacing. Then he gestured towards the living room, following his uncle.

“I was arrested for double murder,” he said, treading cautiously. Erwin didn’t need Levi to question Kenny, so his only goal in this conversation was to escape his uncle’s suspicion. “Did they question you too?”

“Yeah, it was too close for comfort,” Kenny replied, throwing himself into his old armchair. “Not that I thought the pigs would find anythin’, but you never know, they could make up crap if they wanted. Or knowin’ them, they’d end up gettin’ me on some… I don’t know, a fuckin’ theft, or some shit.”

It was two weeks since Levi had heard Kenny’s dry, barking laugh but it sounded different now. The list of victims had doubled in size since he last saw Kenny. He’d learned so much from Erwin’s files that it was like looking at a different man.

“Don’t know much of what happened but they released me without charge. Traute vouched for where I was, must’ve been that.”

“Huh.” Levi kept his tone normal, as if he was hearing it all for the first time. The last thing he wanted was for Kenny to think that Levi was angry with him, or demanding answers.

But his uncle kept staring at him expectantly. When nothing came, he held his hands out questioningly, voice impatient. “_Well?_ How’d you get out?”

Levi could guess from the demanding tone that Kenny wanted to predict if he was back on the suspects’ list himself.

“They talked about forensics a lot. Made it sound like I was going down. Then showed up and said they’d arrested someone and were releasing me without charge.”

“Arrested who?” his uncle asked immediately, perking up but trying not to sound too gleeful, even though he absolutely was.

Levi spotted a charger plugged into the wall and hooked his phone into it. The battery had run out long ago, when Erwin had confiscated it.

“Didn’t tell me. A man, though. Said I was free to go and ‘he’ was taking my place. One of yours?”

The second Levi powered his phone on, he heard a non-stop series of _ding. Ding. Ding._

“Tch. Two weeks’ worth of texts.” As angry as Levi had been when Erwin cut him off from all communication, he had to admit that this was very convincing proof. It looked like he had been separated from his phone like a man in custody, not someone who had spent an extended sleepover with the chief of police.

“Would you shut that racket up?” Kenny grumbled. It was a sign that his nerves were frayed. “Tell me more about this guy.”

“I told you, I don’t know. Thought it might be one of your friends, since they got into Denham without breaking in.” Levi looked through his texts as he spoke. They were ordinary things, promotional emails, even one from Kenny on the 21st asking when he’d be home, as if he hadn’t known that Levi would be detained. Very clever. But nobody who actually stayed in touch. His was an empty world.

“No one I know,” Kenny said with a shrug, now settling back into his big, worn armchair, the fabric frayed on the arms where his fingers kept picking at it. “Everyone’s accounted for, ‘cept you. Told the pigs I had no idea what happened. They only arrested me because it’s my damn house.”

He rolled his eyes as if this was the most unjust thing that had ever happened, but then he remembered he was supposed to be playing dumb. “Hey, it _wasn’t_ you, was it?”

Levi stared at him incredulously. Kenny would never have thought that, even if he weren’t the murderer. He knew Levi too well.

“No. It wasn’t. I thought it was you until they found this guy.”

He played it as if he thought Eld Jinn was the real culprit. It was the only way to explain his amicability towards Kenny, and persuade his uncle that they were on the same side again.

Kneeling beside his phone, he adjusted so he was settled on the floor. It was time to set up Erwin’s next move. “Hopefully he confesses or they might come back for me.” He wore a concerned expression.

Kenny, on the other hand, seemed poised and self-assured once more. This burst of good news was just enough to make him cocky all over again.

“Don’t stress over that, kid.” He waved a long finger, teeth bared in a smug grin. “Your uncle’s always got a trick up his sleeve.”


	44. Insider Knowledge (4th-7th September)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin starts to zero in on the police spy, but Kenny is already suspicious.

It was the very next day that Levi first had to signal Erwin.

Kenny usually made phone calls when he didn’t want a paper trail. Normally it would have been hard for Levi to keep track of Kenny’s contacts, but it had become much easier since his return. They were forced to live in the same house, since Denham Close was still a murder site under investigation, and Kenny was laying low instead of being out with his sketchy associates at all hours. That meant many more calls within earshot, and many more chances to listen in.

He could hear that familiar baritone rumbling through the flimsy walls. Last time it turned out that he was just talking to a regular buyer, but this time Levi caught the tail end of a sentence that was definitely of interest.

“--arrested now?”

He pressed up against the wall, trying to listen in towards Kenny’s bedroom, but he could only tell when his uncle was speaking, and not discern any particular words.

Holding his breath, he took a chance and crept out into the hallway, thankful for his light footstep.

“Uh-huh. ... Uh-huh.” The voice reverberated through the closed door. “So it’s some kind of relative?”

Levi kept his phone poised in his hand, a one-word text to Erwin. But first he had to be sure it was the informant Kenny was speaking to, and not some other sketchy contact.

“Who’s working this case, anyway? You got a name for me?”

That was as certain as he was likely to get. Levi fired off the text to Erwin.

\----------------------------------------------

Over at the station, a phone lit up suddenly, nearly buzzing itself off the desk. It was an unsaved number.

_right now_

Erwin jumped up from his desk, hurrying out to the main office.

He looked around as subtly as he could, making a mental note of who was at their desk as he walked through the rows of desks. He ignored his pounding heart, no time to worry. _Ian, Hitch, Gelgar…_ A lot of desks were empty though, including Rico’s, which he noted with great concern.

Petra and Oluo were both on leave; nobody knew if it was together or not, so it was the subject of great gossip in the station. For Erwin it was a disappointment; he wouldn’t be able to check up on either one of them at all this week.

He checked the photocopy room and found Peaure, and the coffee machine was deserted for once. The archives were deserted.

His phone buzzed in his pocket; another text from Levi, just to update him that the call was still going on. He tried to recall who he was seeking and in an overabundance of caution he dialled Hanji’s number, only breathing again when she replied with a chirpy "hey Nintendo!"

“Sorry, Hanji, pocket dial -- got to go,” he blurted out, hanging up instantly.

He was about to do another scout when his phone chimed;

_gone quiet_

He sighed and opened his encrypted document; a typed version of Mike’s list, everyone who had been poking around in the files for the double murder that was apparently Levi’s doing.

After putting a strikethrough the names of anyone he had seen, he was disappointed to see that the list was still far too populated. In the initial stages he had wondered if Kenny had a whole network, but his examination over the years proved otherwise. The gang’s interference was too localised; they had no reach at Hanji’s path lab, nothing at outsource locations, and they were helpless if a case was every carried out at another station.

No. This informer was working alone, they were getting away with this under his watch, and it had gone on long enough. By process of elimination, he was going to smoke them out or die trying.

\----------------------------------------------

Levi didn’t text for the rest of that day, but early the next morning, it happened again.

_now_

Erwin was quietly pleased; yesterday’s call had been in the late afternoon, so this should give him a chance to scout out some different faces.

_he’s talking about the chief of police_

His mind was working in overdrive, heart fluttering as he left the private offices but he tried not to imagine why Kenny might be discussing him. There were priorities and he had precious little time.

Claude was at his desk, and Marlowe behind him. Henning was in the staff room among a group of people who weren’t suspect. As expected, Petra and Oluo’s desks were still unoccupied, with their week’s holiday still in progress. Christa hadn’t been here last time, but today’s shift hadn’t yet begun for her, so her absence wasn’t too suspect.

Sasha Braus was missing on both occasions too, though she was a support officer, so she did spend a lot of time out in the sticks. More worrying was Jean Kirstein, who had been on shift but absent during Erwin’s scoutings on both occasions now, without any explanation. Coincidence? His boss certainly hoped so.

Erwin lifted his phone to his ear, pretending to be mid-conversation so he could walk through the corridors without anyone stopping him. As he strode down hallways, he looked askance through the glass windows, trying to catch subtle glimpses. Varis was at his desk typing away, phone unused at his side. Then, the doors opposite opened, and both Ian and Rico stepped out of the elevator. 

“Okay, thank you,” he said aloud, hanging up on his imaginary correspondent. The conversation was feigned but the gratitude was real. He was glad he would get to cross Rico off his list; high-ranking and competent, she would have made a dangerous enemy and he would have been sorry to lose her.

There was no update from Levi, meaning the call was still in progress. With his nerves hanging by a thread, Erwin headed towards Mike’s office. The door was locked and the blinds drawn down. Ness tapped his shoulder as he walked past.

“Sorry, Chief. Mike had to pop out for something --”

Erwin’s breath hitched in his throat, but he re-calibrated his thoughts. He had to find as many people as possible in the narrow window Levi had provided. He would think about that later.

Tripping down the stairs to the evidence rooms, Erwin managed to locate a few more people as Levi’s next text came in:

_they’re still going_

To his relief, he saw Nifa’s auburn hair poking out behind her desk, and Darius perched on Ilse’s desk. None of the evidence technicians were in, and among the administrators, only Klaus was on his list.

Knowing that he was probably running out of time, he headed back upstairs while making another quick phone call.

_You’ve reached the voicemail of Chief Superintendent Nile Dok--_

He nearly cursed under his breath. Was Hanji the only person who answered her calls?

There was no closing text from Levi yet. He took his chances, calling Mike as well, only to hear the steady, solid beeping of an engaged dial tone.

He stopped mid-step in the stairwell. _Engaged?_ He was on the phone… to who?

_No, not Mike._ He tried to rationalise his thoughts. There was a long list of people who had accessed the file, many of whom were more suspicious than Mike. He just needed to find out where he was, put his mind at rest--

His heart skipped a beat when his phone suddenly buzzed, hoping to see Mike returning his call, but it was the opposite of what he wanted.

_call over_

\----------------------------------------------

That night, Erwin dwelled solemnly on his dwindling list of names. Petra and Oluo had good reason for being away, so he couldn’t investigate them. He had to treat them as guilty until proven innocent, but he doubted that Kenny’s informant was either one of them.

Kirstein concerned him. He was a promising officer, but young and a little brash, and Erwin didn’t know if money might sway him into doing something stupid for a criminal organisation.

His eyes tracked down the list. Christa? It seemed unlikely, but he didn’t really know her at all. The same with Annie, down in the technicians’ room, Ymir in the admin team and Niccolo in the liaison team. He’d worked with Connie on several cases, and the young man didn’t strike him as suspicious, but…

This musing was pointless. The snake in the grass had been hiding for a long time. They didn’t manage that by being easily found. He now had a shortlist of sixteen people who were unaccounted during Kenny’s calls. The more he could narrow it down, the better.

The next day, he had his third and final chance.

_get ready it might be happening again_

He straightened up in his chair, ready to spring into action, staring at his phone. After a tense minute or two, he started writing a reply, only to be interrupted by several chimes at once

_he’s talking to them, go_

Practically stumbling out of his chair, Erwin jammed his phone into his pocket and headed out to do the rounds again. He was looking for just sixteen unaccounted officers this time and the list was memorised, the names etched into his mind.

In the staff kitchen he saw Niccolo and Marlene talking as they made a whole coffee round, and crossed them off. Jean's desk was empty, and Mike's office dark once again. His blood felt cold suddenly, and he couldn't wait. He had limited time, but it was worth it to be sure; he called Mike's mobile.

It rang, and rang, and rang.

_Welcome to the voicemail for 0 - 8 - 1 - 4 - 0..._

Erwin hung up and backed up flat against the wall. He would have to give this serious thought. If Mike was the informant, surely he would have guessed? That meant Kenny would have known where to find Levi all along, but perhaps they just hadn’t acted upon it… if Mike was guilty, Kenny knew Levi had defected, and Erwin had just sent him into the gallows, paving his way with naivete…

He gasped a breath as he noticed his lungs were suddenly empty, and tried to compartmentalise his thoughts. This was no time to fall apart.

He checked the staff room, where he found Rashad and Lynne eating lunch together. There was no-one in the photocopy room, no-one in the stationery cupboard.

_Still too many,_ he thought desperately, though he kept his expression neutral. He checked his phone, but no further updates, so he headed to the archive but only saw Gelgar again.

With no further update from Levi, Erwin took another glance around the office and then put in a call to Nile. His receptionist answered, claimed him away from his desk, and Erwin politely extracted himself. This felt desperate now, there were too many good names still to account for. 

His phone buzzed.

_done_

That was it. Erwin dragged his body reluctantly back to his office, feeling numb, eyes slightly glazed.

He stared at the wall across from his desk, at a bent nail sticking out of the wall. A photograph of Shadis and his wife had hung there during Erwin’s junior years, one taken at his swearing-in ceremony. Now it was unused, the magnolia paint beneath it clearer and less faded than the rest of the walls.

Without the panic of time urgency, his thoughts were less foggy. Mike was unlikely to be the informant, he thought, half rationalising and half consoling himself. He had been an officer since 1999. Kenny’s influence on the force wasn’t clear for several years after that… or had he just played subtle for a while? Had Erwin just not uncovered any of their early dirty dealings?

Mike also knew about all of Erwin’s research. Kenny would have known the chief of police was on his tail. Mike knew Levi had stayed with him, and that Erwin had a personal investigator, even if he’d kept Armin’s name out of it. Erwin had trusted Mike to collect some of Hanji’s reports in person; had he made a grave error by letting anyone else into the inner sanctum of his research?

They’d gone to school together, Mike had shouldered him during his father’s death, Erwin was the godfather to Mike’s only son. It couldn’t be… 

He turned his thoughts towards the positives. There were a lot of crossed out names, people he now considered above reproach. Rico was a colleague of many years, and she was safe. Gelgar and Ian too. Thankfully, Hanji was here too; even though he knew Kenny’s spy was a police employee in his team, he was taking the opportunity to check. Levi’s freedom hinged on the integrity of the pathology team, and Erwin planned to use Hanji to help find his traitor.

He highlighted the names that hadn’t been ruled out, switching them into red.

**Jean, Petra, Oluo, Christa, Ymir, Annie, Connie, Sasha, Nile.**

Then, after some hesitation, he switched **Mike** from innocent black text to incriminating red as well. Those were his remaining suspects. Any of them, in theory, could be the informant. All of them had been in the database for the Jinn and Johnson case. All of them had access to vital information. Any of them could have disrupted the previous cases on Kenny’s behalf.

Most importantly, none of them had been available when Kenny was speaking to his spy. None of them had an alibi.

\------------------------------------------

Late that evening, Kenny stomped up the stairs. Levi’s ears pricked up; for a big guy, Kenny was usually light on his feet. A bad mood was on the horizon.

His apprehension only grew when Kenny came straight into his room with characteristic entitlement and no warning.

“Hey, Levi.” He launched straight into what was on his mind. “Remember when you said about the guy they arrested, instead of you. You said you didn't know a thing else, yeah?”

Levi looked up from doodling on his notepad, acting coolly as possible.

“Yeah, they didn't tell me.” He kept his eyes on his page as he erased a few wayward lines, answering casually as he could. “Just said they didn't have the evidence to keep me, and gave me my shit back.”

Kenny looked at his nephew closely, mind agitated as his thoughts and suspicions jumped around. The news from his informant wasn’t good; someone had been arrested, but it didn’t sound all that convincing.

His eyes drifted to the phone on Levi’s bedside table, face-down so he could only see the worn and battered back of the casing from here. In paranoia, he wondered whether he was recording this conversation and resolved not to say anything incriminating until he checked.

“Nothin', huh? You sure? You didn't overhear a thing?”

He saw Levi roll his eyes, and it was like throwing oil on an open flame. He drew closer, pointing an accusing finger down at the bed. “You better think hard, brat, because I ain't sure about all this. Got reasons to doubt what the hell's going _on!”_

Levi set the notebook on his lap, sitting upright on the bed. He was in no way the skilled liar that Erwin could be, but hoped that any nerves would just come across as self-preservation.

“Why?” he asked urgently. “If they've caught the guy, it's over.” He hesitated for a second, before adding “...isn’t it?”

“Far from over, idiot! Plenty could go wrong still, and besides…” He lowered his voice. “Been hearin' things. About this guy. Weird shit.”

Without a word of warning, he darted forward, snatching the phone from the cabinet. Levi’s hand was a fraction too slow, glancing off Kenny’s knuckles.

“Why?” Levi demanded, angry but not altogether surprised at the intrusion.

He got no explanation. Kenny’s eyes were glued to the phone.

“Who do you think I talk to, dumbass?” he pestered further, tone exasperated. “What are you accusing me of?”

Kenny’s voice lowered to a threatening growl. “Shut the fuck up.”

Levi scowled, feeling very much like a child, but waited as Kenny examined the phone, scrolling frantically as if it were about to disappear before his eyes.

“No one's above suspicion, got it?” His uncle mumbled to himself, apparently rifling through the contents. “Can’t be too careful…”

“No one, huh? You gonna let me check yours then?” Levi asked rhetorically.

Kenny didn’t even bother to reply as he went straight to the internet history, but found nothing of note there. No phone calls. No saved notes. The photos were all old. Levi had a recent text from a random number, so Kenny zeroed in on it immediately.

_Hi, our records indicate you may be due some compensation for a PPI claim you were mis-sold recently! To speak to our team, call this number and leave us a message. To opt out of texts, reply STOP._

Kenny’s expression eased as he made a small sound of amusement, before tossing the phone at Levi with a laugh. He figured texts and calls could be deleted, but Levi hadn’t been expecting the invasion, so the lack of evidence mollified his temper a bit.

“Man, your life is sure boring, eh? Been in prison all that time, no one even sent you a message?”

“Yeah, idiot.” Levi couldn’t be hurt by the insinuation since it had been true up until recently. “All this time, you didn't notice that?”

“Bah. It’s just kinda… sad. Ain't even got one friend to ask after you?”

“Nope.” Levi’s reply was blunt. He scrolled through his returned phone, looking at the text below the spam one and displaying the screen to Kenny again. “The last real person was you.”

He was tempted to add _'and that's one too many'_ but decided to bite his tongue now that it seemed he was out of the danger zone.

“Yeah, well, good old me, eh...” Kenny mumbled distractedly as he finally backed away. But to Levi’s chagrin, rather than leaving, he just sat on the battered old fold-out chair near the window, folding his arms and kicking one long leg up over the other.

“I ain't sure about this... brother,” he confessed.

Levi was apprehensive about discussing this kind of thing with Kenny, but on the other hand, it was a good opportunity to find out some information.

“What brother?” He pretended to put two and two together. “The guy who got arrested?”

“Yeah, him.” Kenny’s eyes were distant, like his mind was hard at work. It was a familiar expression. He was thinking out loud, fumbling blindly through the snippets of information he had, figuring out how to out-manoeuvre his enemy. Levi suddenly realised it was an expression stolen from Erwin, and the realisation made him uncomfortable, like Kenny didn’t deserve it.

Kenny drummed his gnarled fingers on his arm as he spoke. “I ain't even sure they've got him. I got contacts, you know? People who tell me shit I might need to know.” 

“What… and they say he escaped, or something?” Levi could feel his heart pounding, nauseous at the idea that Kenny might be seeing through this. He attempted to play it off as self-concern.

“Nah, not like that. I got his name, his prison location, his charges… but there’s more missing.”

“Fuck. ... fuck,” Levi whispered. He said it as if he was expecting to be re-arrested, but the agitation was real. “What’s missing?”

“Ain’t got names on who questioned him, ain’t got records of his stuff… like he went in with empty pockets and went straight to jail. Like a ghost.”

Levi could figure out that there was no interrogation for Eld Jinn because he had never really been thought guilty. And he didn’t have his belongings catalogued the way Levi had, because the arrest hadn’t happened. Perhaps all that was too much for Erwin to falsify. He had no idea what to say, looking blank.

“Suspicious right?” Kenny prodded. “So we’re gonna lay low for a bit, you got it?”

Levi wondered if his uncle realised how much he talked like the guilty party, even when he was pretending not to be. Either the act slipped, or he really didn’t care if Levi thought him the murderer.

As Kenny rose to his feet and left as quickly as he’d arrived, Levi took his phone again, looking at the open spam text that Kenny had mocked. He tapped out a reply.

_he knows something’s up. his contact doesn’t believe you arrested her brother._

He climbed under the duvet, wanting his hands hidden in case Kenny made any more unannounced visits. The unsaved number, supposedly the only spam number that cared about him, replied quickly.

_I’ll move things along quickly then. Give me until Monday._

A second later, it texted again.

_I miss you. Stay safe._

Levi drew the duvet up to his eyes for a second, his nerves easing.

_you too_


	45. Closing the Net (9th September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin investigates every potential spy in the police station.

Erwin wanted news of another call from Kenny to his informant so he could narrow his list down further, but his last text from Levi was concerning. He had no more time left to spare.

He had to work with what he had, and that made his list final. Ten colleagues. The groundwork had been set and now it was time to bring it to fruition.

Come Monday morning, the phone didn't ring for long before Nile’s receptionist answered. Erwin felt his heart quicken but forced his voice to stay in the same controlled tone as he greeted him.

"Morning." Nile’s voice sounded a little terse, but he was never exactly brimming with enthusiasm.

"I know it's early but I've been having some thoughts on this murder case since our last conversation.” Erwin was so far into Nile’s bad books that he had reached volume three, but he knew how to worm his way back into someone’s good graces. “I plan to take your advice, but I want your opinion first."

On the other side of the city, Nile turned his swivel chair to face away from the glass doors. Erwin's paranoia must be contagious.

"By _this case_, I take it you mean the ongoing saga of Jinn and Johnson."

"Correct," Erwin replied, nodding to his empty office. "I'm trying to decide how to play some information I have, about the neighbour who discovered the bodies. Off the record - would you bring him in for questioning, if you were in my position?"

He kept his tone casual and inquisitive. It was imperative that Nile took this as an informal question, just advice-seeking.

"The neighbour?" Nile sounded bewildered. He was under the impression that this case had one suspect too many. It certainly didn't need a third. "Do you have some reason to suspect him?"

"Nothing from our point of view. The only thing tying him to the case is that he found the bodies. But our suspect has started bringing him up…”

“Which one?” 

Erwin cringed; he had hoped to be vague. “The younger one. Levi Ackerman. It sounds like a hint. Like he wants us to go looking. Naturally, I don’t want to bring an innocent neighbour in without good reason, but I should cover all bases before formally charging Levi...”

Nile's voice fell silent on the other end of the phone, but Erwin held his nerve. Then;

"Sounds like he's clutching at straws. Finding a body isn't suspicious. You know how it is. They're always dog-walkers and passers-by."

Nile was just glad that Erwin wasn't presuming the innocence of either Ackerman. The man's hatred of Kenny was well-known, but as far as Nile was concerned, the nephew was just as likely to be guilty.

"If I were you, I'd run a background check on this neighbour. Unless there are prior convictions - violent ones - then I'd leave it." He didn't need to mention the risk of news getting out that the police were still investigating. It was better for PR if the public and, more importantly, the press thought the criminal was behind bars.

"Thank you," Erwin said, sounding warm, as if his words had been of some great value and relief. "That's what I was hoping." He allowed himself a smile. "Well, I won't keep you, I'm sure your day is as busy as my own. No doubt we will talk again soon."

Erwin's phone clicked as he placed it back on the receiver. On his notebook, he circled the pencilled initial **N**. Then he picked up his mug, whistling softly as he strode through the rows of desks. At this time of the morning many were empty, awaiting the arrival of their occupants. But right at the back, close to the coffee machine, was another target.

"Good morning," he said, smiling at Ymir as he pressed the same buttons on the coffee machine as always. He paused just a few seconds, watching the dark liquid pour, then frowned and turned towards the administrator’s desk as if something had only just occurred to him. "Ah. Actually. I need a favor. Are you busy?"

She threw him a sarcastic look, just hazel eyes and freckled cheeks visible behind her stack of folders. She stopped short of voicing the implied _what do you think?,_ knowing it probably wasn't wise to sass the chief, but she did gesture to the enormous stack of filing in front of her. She had ignored it for about as long as possible and couldn't find any more excuses.

"What kind of favour are we talking?" she asked anyway.

"Nothing big. I just need you to call Dr Zoe for me. I've been waiting for the autopsy report on Rebekka Johnson, and I really need to know what was found in her system." He frowned, as if annoyed, knowing she would respond well to this kindred attitude. "The overdose was heroin, but the house is full of alcohol, some of them opened. If she didn’t drink any alcohol, perhaps the killer did."

Ymir’s expression turned into a grin. Contrary to what certain officers seemed to think, she wasn't lazy. She just hated filing. Now that she had been given a different task, she could get away with telling Connie to put the files away when his shift started. Pre-emptively, she leaned over to drop a few of them onto his unoccupied desk with a heavy thud, instead grabbing a stack of post-its and speaking slowly as she took a note.

"So… Rebekka Johnson. Any… alcohol… or just heroin. Leave it with me."

Erwin smiled back at her, taking his now-full cup of coffee from the machine by the handle. For some reason he pictured the way Levi cringed to see someone hold their cup this way, and smiled sentimentally to himself, before putting the chief mask back on.

"Let me know what she says - even if it isn't completed yet, find out when it will be," he urged Ymir. "I haven’t sent those liquor bottles for testing, so we’re working against the clock here." He nodded at her and headed back to his office, happy to leave the task in her hands. So far so good, he thought with satisfaction.

He sat down in his plush office chair, circling the **Y** on his list.

Next, he sent an email to his next target, knowing her shift hadn’t begun. The hardest part of this was getting his actual work done while simultaneously drawing nets around Kenny’s spy, so he focused for a while. Conferences, statistics and complaints… it all seemed so menial in comparison to the big picture.

But as expected, the moment Petra’s shift began, she rushed right to his office.

"Good morning!" she said brightly as he waved for her to come in. His email had been scanty on details so she was intrigued, holding out hope for an exciting case. "Is this a good time?"

Erwin returned her smile. Unlike Ymir who had a hard outer shell, Petra was an open book.

He gestured to the chair on the other side of his desk. "Close the door and have a seat? I wish to discuss the Johnson and Jinn case with you.” 

He noted the glimmer in her eyes as he leaned his elbows on the desk and looked at her over the tops of his steepled fingers. “How much do you know about it?"

"I've... looked." She wore a smile but had the decency to look sheepish about it. The files on the system were tantalising enough, and that was just a fraction of the whole case. She couldn’t help but peek and she knew she wasn’t the only one. "Double homicide, right?"

"Correct," Erwin replied with a nod. "It's actually a good thing you looked, because I want you on the case team." He paused to allow her to absorb the information, sure it would be exciting news for her. "I think you will be a valuable asset.”

Petra restrained the glee in her eyes, feeling it was inappropriate for a murder case. Despite being an officer for many years, she still looked young and unassuming, especially with her short slender stature, so she feared she wasn’t taken especially seriously by her superiors.

Luckily Erwin kept talking while she was lost for words. “It’s a little early to pick when CPS hasn’t pushed yet, but I want to bring you in early because I need some advice. Something about the case that doesn't add up." He looked at her with a troubled expression, head slightly tilted to one side. 

“Well, I can certainly give it a try!”

“Alicia Jinn had bruising and trauma around the face and head, while Rebekka Johnson had nothing like it. Given that Jinn was the one who died first, what do you make of that..?"

Petra wanted to offer some new and invaluable insight, one that would prove her value as an officer on the case. But the problem Erwin presented to her was a complicated one indeed.

"So Johnson... was alive while Jinn was being beaten." This felt like a test. For a moment she set the scene in her imagination, picturing a random house and two young women, plus a mysterious shadow in place of the murderer. They had entered the house together, and it seemed implausible that one victim wouldn't have heard what was going on.

"Maybe Johnson was restrained, or too scared to intervene?" It was odd that one of them was injured, but not the other. Unless… 

"Johnson might be complicit in Jinn's attack. Or Jinn might have resisted and tried to escape, while Johnson didn't. That's all the possibilities I can think of, sir."

"If Johnson had been restrained, we would expect to find a sign of that - bruising around the wrists for example," Erwin said. "And there isn’t anything like that. But it's a good thought. Your other theories sound very plausible to me…” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “We can and should investigate them further.”

He typed on his computer as if he was taking notes, instead playing a sound effect to pretend an email had arrived.

"Ah - something urgent. Anyway, I will call the case team together soon,” he told Petra. “In the meantime, don't forget to put this on your training application." He smiled, having signed her application for public relations training himself.

Petra had left the application open, only abandoning it in her haste to see the chief. This case would be perfect evidence that she deserved a place on the conference. It was focused on press management in the wake of sensational crimes, and this particular case had been plastered all over the papers. Two women turning up dead in an abandoned house was just enough to frighten the public.

"I'll add it today!" she said earnestly. "And I appreciate the opportunity." She headed back to her desk, not sure if she wanted Oluo to be invited onto the case team as well. On the one hand, he was a very good officer. On the other hand, she could gloat for days if she was chosen over him.

Once alone, Erwin circled **P**, then sent a similar message to Jean Kirstein. Petra had half an alibi by being on holiday during every one of Levi’s phone calls, but Jean’s absence was suspicious. He hoped to quash those fears soon. It was tiring to see everyone as a potential enemy.

When Jean knocked respectfully against the glass panel to get his attention, Erwin gave him a cheery wave then a thumbs-up.

As soon as the door opened, he continued the bright act. "Just the person I need.”

Jean's chest swelled as he thought the chief looked pleased, maybe even _grateful_, to see him.

“How would you feel about being on the case team for the Johnson and Jinn murder investigation?" Erwin asked, already knowing the answer.

Hazel eyes went wide, blinking as if he had misheard. "The double homicide?" he said, trying desperately to hold in his enthusiasm and play it cool. "Heh. I mean, sure. If you need me, I’ll take it." 

“Great,” Erwin said with a smile. “I haven’t chosen the full team, but I’m keeping it small. Five or so total.”

That was music to Jean’s ears; he was part of an elite team on the highest profile case. He vowed to himself that he would impress everyone, get a reputation as the guy you wanted on all the top cases...

“We can’t start until the results are back; hopefully this time next week. But my mind is hung up on it so I’m thinking ahead...” Erwin adopted a puzzled expression, flicking through the pages in the file as if he was skim-reading them. “As you’re probably aware, one of the women overdosed and one was shot. But the one with the bullet died first, by over an hour. It doesn’t add up, does it?”

One glance told him that Jean was thinking the same thing. “What was going through her mind…?” the chief mused on, as if thinking aloud. “She sees Johnson get shot, stays with the murderer all night, and dies anyway?”

"That is strange," Jean agreed, mostly pleased that his superior wanted his opinion. "Over an hour? You would think she'd find an escape in all that time." He looked down, thinking hard, wanting to make sure his response would impress Erwin and that he knew he was giving it his full consideration.

Then he snapped his fingers. "She must have already been unconscious! Could have shot-up before Johnson was murdered, been out of it, then… died of the intake later?" He thought that was a genius idea, and he searched the chief's face for a sign that he thought so too.

Erwin thought that would have been a fine explanation, if his story had been true. “Ah… yes... So perhaps she didn’t ignore the gunshot, but was already incapacitated by the drug intake. And within a couple of hours, the drugs had killed her.” 

"Exactly!" Jean replied. "Otherwise any normal person would take a chance and make their escape." He'd always been told one of his strengths was the ability to consider how ordinary people reacted in situations; it seemed to come easily to him. He had an unexpected gift for relating to victims and families, and predicting outcomes that depended upon an understanding of human nature.

"I can't think of any other reason they wouldn't." Jean folded his arms and nodded satisfactorily. "So she must have been laid out first, just didn't die first." He paused, then added, trying to sound thoughtful, "and hopefully the toxicology reports confirm that."

Erwin really hoped that his suspicions of Jean were misguided. This was one of his earlier opportunities to work with the young officer and despite his reputation for bluntness, he was obviously quite sharp. Luckily Erwin didn’t need people who were easy to get along with, as long as they were quick-witted - and trustworthy.

“I’ll make a note of it. Keep this quiet, would you? I want the case details to remain confidential among our team insofar as it’s possible.”

"Sure, no need to worry Chief," Jean promised, wondering who the other team members would be. He'd have to find a way to slip casually into a conversation that he was the one who'd figured _this_ part out.

“Then I’ll update you as soon as I know more.” Kirstein’s pride was palpable. Erwin was only concerned that he might not manage to hold back from bragging; he and Oluo were loose cannons in that way.

With one more initial down and a very successful morning passing quickly, he decided to get stuck into his regular work. Kenny Ackerman occupied a lot of his thoughts, but there were plenty of other things demanding his attention too.

At 12:30 precisely, he sent Mike an email, titled “Lunch?” with no other text. There was another knock at the door within minutes.

“Going out?” Mike said by way of greeting, as he poked his head around the door without awaiting an answer. “Thought you were bringing homemade these days.”

Erwin gave him a resigned look, then stood up to collect his jacket. Mike obviously didn’t realise that anything homemade was Levi’s, not his. Remembering it made him feel something similar to nostalgia or homesickness.

“Your nagging has prevailed upon me. Besides, I want to go to Percy’s.”

Mike’s questioning look demanded an answer. “What? I’m… craving donuts.”

His friend rolled his eyes. “Way to play into the cop stereotype.”

They were careful as ever not to discuss work outside of the building, so it wasn’t until they were back in the staff room with pre-packaged lunches and a freshly-baked box of donuts that Erwin brought it up again.

“I’m choosing a team for the Jinn and Johnson case now,” he said, keeping his voice low. “If I wait any longer, Crown Prosecution will be on my case - or worse, _Nile_ will start calling.”

Mike couldn't suppress a laugh at that.

"What a threat," he replied as he pulled at the plastic sleeve of his sandwich. He glanced up as Erwin did the same, glad to see his friend taking a responsible lunch break. If he had to talk about work then so be it; it was better than knowing he'd stayed at his desk all day, as usual.

"Feeling confident about the ones you've chosen?" he asked. He imagined Erwin was nervous underneath that calm exterior and was probably choosing the people he put onto it very carefully. 

“Yeah. I think so. Some of them are new to homicides, but promising nonetheless.” He thought carefully about how to subtly bring the conversation around. If anyone could see through him, it was going to be Mike.

"Must feel good to finally be in complete control of a case linked to Ackerman."

Erwin chuckled. “No kidding. When I was new, I would have given my right arm for a case like this. Although… Shadis wouldn’t have let _me_ anywhere near it.”

Mike nodded, remembering those times, the frustrations Erwin had felt over being blocked from investigations. He'd spent many hours listening to his friend venting about it.

"You’d have been put onto some other case, some theft probably," he said. “Something with a lot of paperwork.”

Erwin wrinkled his nose at the memory. He’d spent a lot of his junior years buried in minor cases, which was normal. Then, when he’d proven himself, he got some of the complex ones. And as soon as he started clashing with Shadis, he got a reputation for being soft on the so-called dregs of society, and got taken off any case where his ‘sensitivity’ might interfere. Erwin never thought of himself as _sensitive_; just less judgmental, less attached to authority than Shadis was.

“I wonder how this case would have gone down when he was chief…” he wondered aloud, then raised his eyebrows as if he was second-guessing himself. “Well, perhaps not so differently after all. The victims have clean records, so they might have earned his sympathy for once.”

Mike raised an eyebrow at Erwin, pausing with his sandwich close to his mouth.

"No priors?" he asked, clearly surprised by that news. “Weird. I thought they were prostitutes.”

For a second, Erwin wondered if he’d overdone it, but he was confident he could pull it back. “Well, they were, and they were with… _him_, so I’m sure they weren’t perfect.” Although he was pretending to keep an open mind, Mike would know which Ackerman he meant. “Probably just never got caught. But on paper they’re model citizens.”

"What about drugs, anything in their systems?"

“Oh, yeah,” Erwin nodded through a mouthful. “Drugs in both of them.”

"Guarantee it wouldn't be so different then," Mike said. "Shadis would’ve had sympathy right up until he found out they were users, convicted or not."

Erwin scoffed lightly. “True.” It was an entrenched belief among the higher-ups in the generation before him that some people just didn’t deserve sympathy, even if they were victims. He worried that it came with age, but luckily, none of his current cohort had hardened over time like that. Putting both Kenny and Levi behind bars would have been Shadis’ idea of a home-run.

Mike balled up the sandwich wrapper and tossed it into the bin, then pointed at the box of donuts that was across the table, the silent question in his eyes. But Erwin was distracted, phone buzzing at his side, and he couldn’t help but look. It was Hanji.

_First call -- success!_

He smiled, then looked up and re-focused on Mike. “Hm? Sure, go ahead.” He gestured at the box. When Mike opened it, there were over twenty donuts inside. He gave the chief a look that demanded an explanation.

“What?” Erwin said, innocently. “I plan to share.”

Half an hour later and only one donut down, Erwin took the rest back to his office. As Hanji’s text had predicted, he had an email from Ymir.

_Boss,_

_Spoke to Forensics. The overdosed girl RJ had no alcohol in the system and no drugs other than heroin._

_HTH  
Ymir_

He bounced back a quick reply thanking her, scored off the initial **M**, then followed up with an email to Oluo Bozado, one of the more experienced officers he planned to invite onto his investigation. 

Unbeknownst to him, on the other side of the office wall, the recipient was leaning back in his chair, speaking confidently to Marco, the junior member of his team.

"Huh. How about that. The Chief wants to see me. Not that unusual though, seems he needs my help a lot. You noticed how I'm in and out of his office all the time? Must be my record. I'm still beating everyone else on my arrests, or at least I would be, if anyone else bothered to keep track."

This continued for some time, until Petra rolled her eyes and snapped, pointing out that he was making the Chief wait while he bragged about how useful he was.

So he tutted and went along, knocking on the door. Erwin didn't waste a moment.

“Hi, Oluo,” he said, gesturing to the chair. “I’m in need of your expertise. You’ve arrested Levi Ackerman before, haven’t you?”

"Ackerman, yeah," Oluo replied, scowling and folding his arms. "Three times I arrested that guy. _Three times!_ Got him on that last one though. What do you want to know, sir?"

Erwin pursed his lips, avoiding a smile. It was strange to speak about Levi in such terms at work after having seen him on a personal level.

“As you’ve probably heard, he’s under arrest for a double homicide, but there’s some doubt over the case as it stands.”

He avoided explicit mention of Kenny at this early stage. If Oluo _was_ the spy, he didn’t need him putting Kenny on red alert.

“Firstly, I wondered if you have capacity to join the team for the investigation. I do realise that you’re balancing quite a lot lately, but with your record and your previous involvement, you could be invaluable--”

"-I have time, Chief," Oluo interrupted, eager, straightening his spine to sit up taller. He was trying to maintain his composure but it was obvious he was thrilled.

"Besides, you'll need me on this if Ackerman is involved. You know how slippery he is." He waved his hand. Levi Ackerman had cost him his conviction streak twice, and only added to it once when he'd assaulted Dachtler. “Frankly, I was hoping you’d ask me to help. It makes sense.”

If Bozado had been a useless cop, his attitude would have been insufferable. As it stood, he was pretty talented and extremely hardworking, so Erwin let it slide.

“Slippery indeed,” he agreed. “In fact, I meant to ask you. None of Ackerman’s previous arrests mention theft or robbery. Was that because there was none, or because we simply couldn’t prove it?”

Thinking back, Oluo closed his eyes for a moment.

"No," he replied. "Never anything like that. He's just a thug who uses his fists. Never seen a thing suggesting he cares to rob anyone, nothing missing from his victims and… alleged victims." He scoffed the word, knowing full well they were Levi’s victims, even if they had retracted their statements.

Erwin leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Hm. I ask because neither of the women in this case were found with any cards or cash on them at all. It made identification quite difficult. I highly doubt they went out for the evening without any cash, cards or ID. I suspect the murderer took everything they had, and I wondered if that was Ackerman’s usual MO.”

Oluo looked dumbfounded. He didn’t want an element of doubt in an Ackerman case, but he wouldn’t lie.

"If they were robbed, that's abnormal," he admitted. "But he’s unpredictable. There must be some explanation. One that won’t discount Ackerman as the guilty party.” He nodded firmly.

Erwin raised a hand, trying to rein in that ardour. He didn’t need Oluo wasting time on investigating false scenarios that he had just invented.

“We’re waiting on a few results yet, but by this time next week, we should be ready to begin establishing a case for CPS. Please avoid discussing any details until the other case members are decided. So far, it’s just you and me.”

He was sure that if he disclosed Petra’s place on the team, then Oluo would feel safe in telling her the details, and that could contaminate his information.

"Got it, Chief," Oluo said with an almost-smug smile. "You made the right choice bringing me in on this." He wished he could lord it up a little but having a "secret mission" from the Chief would be enough for the moment.

As Bozado stood to leave, Erwin spoke again.

“Oh, Oluo?” He gestured to the box of donuts, open on his desk. “I accidentally ordered two dozen instead of one. Please take one with you. I eat too much sugar as it is.”

Oluo took a shiny glazed ring from the box, holding it up to Erwin in a gesture of gratitude before heading back to his desk.

Alone again, with **O** taken care of, Erwin only had four initials left to go. He carefully drafted a post-it note, designing it to look hastily scrawled. With the note and his box of donuts in hand, he locked up his office and took the long route through the station, passing by as many desks as possible, waving and greeting those who caught his eye.

Eventually he descended into the administrative offices, passing Ymir’s desk and knocking on the door of one isolated room.

“Afternoon, Annie.” As always, there was one lonely occupant in here. The evidence technicians were vital team members, but there was rarely more than one in at a time, since they did a fair amount of on-site work. But for her part, Annie liked the solitude of the job, and it was rare someone would bother her. Even rarer that it was the Chief. 

“Are you in the middle of something?”

She looked down at the paperwork she was filling out. “Nothing urgent,” she concluded. “Why, what’s up?”

From the little he knew, Annie seemed to lack the cockiness of Oluo and Jean, and the desire to shine that Petra possessed. She seemed so indifferent. He couldn’t get away with stroking her ego; instead, he would downplay his own. It was odd for him to visit rather than sending someone else, and that might make a person suspicious; he had to appear as non-manipulative as possible. Stupid, even.

“I have a conundrum for you.” He set down his box of donuts, plucking the post-it note from the top of it and handing it to her. 

_Blood - hallway - carpet fibres??  
01617342747_

“Please ignore my scribbles. The phone number is for my link at the Forensics department. There is some confusion over the results on the Jinn and Johnson murder case.”

"What confusion?" Annie asked, mild as ever, accepting the note.

“From the blood splatter in the hallway, it appears that Johnson, the young lady who was shot, died there. But her body was found next to Jinn, and Jinn died first. I’d assume the body was moved, but they haven’t picked up the DNA that I’d expect from a murderer handling the body.”

He frowned, rubbing his temple as if he was deeply stressed. “Nothing but bad luck with this case. Could you call Dr Zoe and see if she tested any of the carpet fibres? We might get something if the body was dragged down the hall…” 

“Yeah, sure.”

She was a woman of few words. Erwin laid on some extra detail.

“It’s not possible that there isn’t any DNA if a murderer carried the body. Just ask her to be extra thorough with the victim’s clothing, you know what she’s like.”

Annie pursed her lips, nodding. “Yeah, I really do.” She had evidence sent via the pathologist fairly frequently, and it was pretty obvious that she was a scatterbrain.

“Sorry to give you extra work. I’d call myself, but Dr Zoe’s technical language can sometimes go over my head.” He knocked his knuckles lightly on his forehead, pulling a slightly vacant smile. “It’ll take one of your team to decipher her for me.”

Annie gave the most minor polite smile. "It's fine. I'll do it now, and I’ll let you know what she says."

“Thanks - no hurry. You have my email address in, uh, the system, the address book.” He was _slightly_ playing up his lack of knowledge in computers, but it wasn’t that hard; he really wasn’t a technical person.

“Oh, and while I’m here - donut?” He shook the box as if to tempt her, but she eyed it and shook her head with a mumbled refusal. “Ah, you have more willpower than me,” he said, then left with another cheery wave.

He took the scenic route back to his office again, offering a donut to anyone who didn’t appear to be in a hurry. This time, he would wait for someone to come to him.

Sasha had been out on the beat most of the morning, checking into her usual spots - the coffee house, the sandwich place, the other sandwich place, the cake shop. Her role was to be a community presence, and she figured the people who owned bakeries were a vital part of the community, so it counted.

Even so, she was hungry again by the time she got back to the station, and as if to taunt her there was Marlowe at his desk, taking a big bite of a donut. She glanced aside, and aside again - everywhere, people seemed to have donuts!

"Where did you get that?!" she asked, mouth agape. It looked like a really good one, with a shiny glaze and soft, freshly-baked dough.

"Chief has a whole box," Oluo chimed in, before turning back to the long email he was writing to Erwin about his robbery theories.

Sasha didn't waste a moment; she took a form from her file and hurried down the corridor. To her dismay, the chief’s office was locked and the lights were dim. She returned moodily to her desk, sulking for a few minutes and contemplating finding an excuse to go and get a box of her own.

But minutes later, the chief appeared, by himself and strolling back to his office with a box that could _only_ be full of goodies. Sasha grabbed her slip of paper again and shadowed him down the corridor.

She tiptoed as she followed him, peeking over each shoulder, but the lid was closed so she couldn't be sure she had made it in time.

Erwin pretended to notice her the second he reached his door, fumbling for his keys in his pocket. 

“Hello there,” he greeted her warmly. “What can I do for you?”

“Nothing much! I just need you to sign this..." she said, following as he beckoned her into his office alongside him. She placed the form down in front of Erwin. “Won’t take a second of your time.”

“Of course.” Erwin took the form and looked at it. It was a basic report on an official warning she had given to a group of underage drinkers found at the harbour with bottles of liquor. Any second officer of any rank could sign it, but he decided not to draw attention to her obvious motives.

He neatly filled out his name and title in block capitals, taking his time, then scrawled his signature, while Sasha practically bounced on her heels, waiting.

“Here. Ah, actually, while I’ve got you - am I right in thinking that you live out in Longsight?”

"Ah.” She nodded excitably. "Yes, I do."

“It’s busy, isn’t it?” He paused as if taking a breath then lowered his voice before continuing. “I’m asking because a double murder happened there at around 6 o’clock in the morning, and I’m not sure whether there would be any activity by then. I live out in the sticks, so it’s a ghost town at 6am, but I imagine Longsight being a bit more alive by sunrise…”

Sasha shook her head, pulling her thoughts away from food for just a second.

"Not really, sir," she told him. "It's residential. 6am… You may find a few people around at that time - people walking their dogs or getting up for work, but it's a sleepy area. If you do a door to door you might get lucky…”

“Huh. Double murder in broad daylight. The press will have a field day,” he muttered, as if to himself. With his pen still in hand, he jotted something down in his notebook as if taking careful stock of her response, then acted as if he had only just remembered that she was in the room.

“Oh, thank you. And by the way…” He didn’t miss the sudden turn of her head as he finally pointed towards the bakery box, fast enough to give herself whiplash. “I accidentally over-ordered on my donuts today. Help yourself?”

_Success!_

"Oh, thank you chief!" Sasha said, grinning as she opened the box and found a good half still there. Eagerly she took two, glanced at Erwin, then took another. "It's for Connie," she lied before heading out of his office, one donut already in her mouth.

Erwin smiled at his desk. “If you say so,” he said softly to his empty room, circling the **S** and the **A** on his list.

It was drawing towards 3pm, which meant another of his targets should have just arrived in the office. She was assigned the evening shift and was always on time for work, but Erwin knew she was rarely alone so he decided to call rather than email.

When Christa answered, he spoke quietly.

“Afternoon, Officer. Are you in the middle of anything?”

"Chief! No, I'm free, I just arrived…"

“Mmhm. I wanted your advice. I seem to recall that you had to deal with the ambulance service recently, on that Roeg and Jones case?”

"Yes, I did!" Christa replied, absent-mindedly twirling the phone cord as she spoke. "I needed a transcript of the emergency call, for use in court."

“And how long did their response take?”

"Oh, a frustratingly long time. Three weeks, if not a month."

“Hmm. That’s disappointing… although I’m not seeking a full transcript. Have you ever requested a tape alone?”

"I'm sorry Sir, I'm afraid not," Christa said apologetically. "But I know Petra Ral has, she mentioned it last week!"

“To be perfectly honest,” Erwin began, with no intention of being honest at all, “my double murder case, Jinn and Johnson - it appears one of the victims was on the phone to the ambulance service before she was shot. I don’t need a tape or a transcript - I just need to know whether the call connected.”

“Oh… well that shouldn’t take so long,” Christa confirmed. “Half the delay was in getting it typed up or finalised. A simple yes or no, they should be able to give you that over the phone. Do you want me to call them though? Last time I was on hold for twenty-two minutes...”

Under normal circumstances, it might have been helpful, but this time, Erwin really needed her not to place that call.

“Not to worry,” he said. “I should do it. Might be able to pull rank on them.” When Christa laughed, he decided it was probably safe.

“Thank you. I’ll let you get on with your own work now.”

He had circled the little **CH** before the phone was down.

Left to his own devices, he checked his emails. Only one was concerned with the Ackerman cases.

** _Annie Leonhart, 14:47_ ** _  
I called Forensics. Dr Zoe says Johnson definitely died in the hallway and was definitely moved after death. There is no unusual DNA on her clothes. She will run a second test on the carpet fibres._

Finally, with his box of donuts in hand, he left his office again. This was more exercise than he usually got during a working day.

He descended to the evidence archives, where Ymir had - predictably - left Connie with the filing and gotten distracted as soon as Christa’s working day began. That left the young man conveniently available.

“Mister Springer,” he said cheerfully, setting off on the right foot by holding out the box. “Another donut?”

“Oh, su-- another?”

“Sasha didn’t make it to you?”

Connie pulled an unimpressed face. “No.”

“Of course not.” The pair laughed and Erwin shook the box. “Well, take one now. There are plenty left. Besides, I’d like to ask your advice, and I’ll pay with baked goods.”

“Deal,” Connie said brightly, as he plucked one from the box. 

“I have a double murder case, Jinn and Johnson. One of them was shot. We have the gun, and the ballistics match the bullet, but it appears to be some old-fashioned revolver.” Connie was frowning like this was out of the ordinary, though it was hard to take him seriously with icing sugar all over his lips.

“Can you remember ever seeing a case involving an old five-shot revolver?”

“Nothing like it…” Connie shook his head, but he beckoned towards the computer stationed in the back of the archiving room. Erwin followed, watching him run searches on the database.

“We don’t get much gun crime at all, obviously,” he said through another mouthful of donut as his eyes flicked up and down the screen, displaying long lists of evidence with serial numbers and case tags. “Here, this is all the case numbers involving a gun, in date order.”

Erwin looked at the neon green text against the dark screen. There were huge gaps between the dates, and most of them were simple confiscations of strangely modified air rifles. But towards the top of the listing, a full two decades ago, was Adrian Smith’s unsolved number. He had the case number memorised.

Connie scrolled down to the most recent, hiding the past from view. “I reckon we average about sixty cases a year in our division. Probably a few hundred in the whole city. It’s hard to get hold of guns over here, so most of them are rifles legally owned by hunters and farmers that end up in the wrong hands.” He frowned. “An antique revolver is really sketchy. Best guess, your killer probably couldn’t get his hands on a real gun and modded up an old one.”

The chief nodded, reading over the listings. “Thanks, Connie. That’s helpful insight.”

The shorter man was frowning, filtering the list by name, then date. “How come your revolver’s not on the list yet?” he asked, jabbing a fingertip at the screen.

“Ah, I’m… still not done with the investigation,” Erwin said. It was a half-truth. “The ballistics are pretty complicated, nobody has dealt with this weird type of gun, so it’s taking them a while.” That was a full lie.

“I’ll have it brought to you when it’s submitted properly,” he assured him. “Thanks for this - and please do take another donut, you’ve been most helpful.”

When he made it back to his office, Erwin crossed off **CO**, his list finally complete. Then he all but collapsed into his chair, sloped into it with arms dangling at his sides. He stretched upwards to finally take one of his own donuts. He decided he’d earned it.


	46. Rescue Mission (9th September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi needs to get out of Kenny's house, and Erwin has a crazy idea on how to do it.

Levi was living a life of disquiet again.

He heard Kenny creeping multiple times a day, floorboards betraying his presence right outside the door. If his uncle was looking for shards of conversation, he would be disappointed. Levi texted Erwin minimally, and he always deleted the messages straight away.

Last night, when he had been struggling to sleep as usual, his door creaked open. It was the middle of the night, 2:00 or 3:00am at a guess. He clutched the knife under his pillow, feigning dead sleep despite the sharp panic thrumming through him. He could only listen, every sound made more ominous by his blindness.

His uncle’s footsteps crept closer then retreated. The curtain was drawn back, a blade of moonlight piercing the room, and his eyes fluttered; luckily Kenny was facing away, his long silhouette standing against the pale like a child’s nightmare, searching for hidden things on the window ledge.

Levi quickly shut his eyes, and a few moments later, he heard the dry wood-on-wood drag of his drawers being coaxed open so Kenny could rifle through them. A second glimmer warned him that his phone was being searched again, the screen light temporarily penetrating his eyelids, and then a heavy creak gave away that Kenny was kneeling at his bedside. Moments later he heard the faint _pad-pad-pad_ of his large hand patting under the bed, looking for anything Levi might have stashed away.

He knew the best thing had been to play dead and let Kenny look. His uncle obviously thought him asleep, and if he searched and found nothing, his suspicions of Levi might abate. Still, he had to battle every instinct in order to lie motionless and vulnerable while a known killer prowled nearby.

Now it was Monday evening. Erwin had told him to hang on until today, and he had, but his grip was slipping. Even though he had found no reason to suspect his nephew, Kenny just kept checking. The constant surveillance was like a sword dangling above his head, ready to fall any secomd. Levi had urged Erwin never to contact him unless he reached out first, just in case, and Erwin had obeyed - it was sensible, but isolating.

A knock at the door cut into his thoughts. Not _his_ door - the front door. His scattered brain couldn’t fathom who it might be now that Kenny wasn’t throwing his usual parties. He had the sudden wild idea that Kenny had invited someone over as backup to try and take him out for good.

He grabbed his flip knife, slipping it into his front pocket, not knowing that his uncle had done exactly the same one floor below him.

Kenny wasn’t expecting company, and he was even more disgruntled to find that it was his least favorite kind of visitor.

“Oi, oi officers. Somethin' I can do for you this evening?”

Levi had prised open his door as silently as possible and heard that from the upstairs corridor. He couldn’t help but picture Erwin, but the next voice was not his at all, cleaving his hopes in two.

“Mr Ackerman? Kenny Ackerman?”

Levi made his way quickly down the stairs, sensing danger on the horizon, first seeing two pairs of patent shoes outside the door. Dark uniforms stretched into view, then long coats, then finally their faces.

Hanji was wide-eyed, not even noticing Levi, his emergence completely eclipsed by Kenny’s presence. She was looking at him like she had seen a statue come to life.

Kenny simply raised an eyebrow as he let her jerk his hand enthusiastically. He had no idea why a cop would act that way, unless they were doing some kind of schmoozing the public, fundraiser type deal.

“Yeah, that's me alright. What d’you want? Haven't you people put me through enough, eh?”

Both of her hands were still clasped over one of Kenny's, giving Levi a chance to take stock of the bemused guy at her side. He didn’t even know who it was. He hoped this was a plan, and Hanji hadn’t simply cracked and decided to meet Kenny in the flesh.

“Great place you've got here. Can we come in?” She was relentless, voice alight with her usual energy. Instead of waiting, she eased past him. Kenny was caught off-guard, frozen still, then suddenly realising what had happened. His voice lowered into a growl.

“Now you hang on just a minute--” 

He reached out as if to grab her shoulder from behind, but the guy at her side stepped in, one hand raised in a surrender gesture. With a tremble in his voice, he made the attempt to talk Kenny down.

“Mr Ackerman, we’re Detective Inspectors from the local station. And we're here about a Levi Ackerman.”

“And what do you want with me?”

Levi stepped down into the hallway as he inserted himself into the conversation, now standing almost exactly where he had been when Mike had arrested him for the attack on Sannes all those years ago. It was like his life was running on a broken cycle; more to the point, why wasn’t this visit coming from Mike - or any _actual_ cop? 

Since Hanji was no officer, he guessed the other guy wasn’t either. This had to be an Erwin move, and he was probably expected to play along.

Hanji’s eyes lit up when she saw him, and she grabbed his wrist, turning him to face the wall with purpose. Levi did his best not to cringe as he remembered what Hanji's real job was, only hoping she had been wearing gloves when she’d been working today.

“Mr Ackerman... junior. We're arresting you on suspicion of murder. You do not have to say anything, but it can harm your defence if you fail to mention something which you later rely on in court.”

She glanced over her shoulder at Moblit.

“Cuff him!”

Luckily she was facing away from Kenny and pinning Levi's wrists when she grinned wide. Levi let the male officer lock in the handcuffs, although he moved timidly; this was the most gentle arrest he’d ever suffered. Now he knew for _sure_ that the guy wasn’t a cop.

Kenny felt like a bystander in his own home, a mere witness, something he didn’t appreciate. But at least they were taking Levi - for a minute there, he had thought they’d caught onto him instead. He made some annoyed tutting sounds and gestures, acting as if he wanted to help more.

“What's he done now?” 

Hanji turned towards him. “What's he done? Murder, that's what. _Two_ murders.”

Levi wanted to protest his innocence, but he knew he wasn’t much of an actor and would probably end up giving the game away. He decided silence, and his genuine look of surprise, were his most convincing plays. Luckily Kenny picked up the questioning.

“The fuck? This again! Thought you'd found the guy!”

Hanji was tempted to throw out some grisly details about the murders and see how Kenny would respond to them, but her sensible side prevailed. Choosing not to take the risk, she continued with a more serious tone.

“We'll be out of your way, Mr Ackerman.”

Her stony countenance cracked as she got to say the name out loud again, eyeing him from head to toe like she was analysing whether he fit the 'serial killer' blueprint in her head. Meanwhile Kenny was cursing under his breath as it became clear that he was about to lose his nephew once more. He wondered what new evidence they found, or what had changed... his spy was already suspicious about this brother’s arrest, and now this?

Momentarily he was distracted by the look on the female cop’s face. She was giving him a critical eye, as if she thought he was suspicious too. Then her colleague pulled their detainee towards the door.

Kenny’s eyes locked with Levi’s, searching for answers, but neither of them could read the other.

As his nephew was led out of sight towards an unmarked car, Kenny had no choice but to let them go. Suddenly the female cop stood in the dark street, looking back at him. Her glasses reflected opaque light underneath the street lamp, and her voice turned unusually deep, her tone caustic.

“Until next time...”

Levi froze, standing in the dark street, cold drizzle pattering all around him and chilling him to the bone. _What the fuck was she thinking?_

He was vindicated when both ‘officers’ got into the car and the unknown man immediately interrogated her too.

“Hanji, you shouldn't have talked to him like that! You didn't act like a police officer at all!” He was sinking heavily into the passenger side seat, taking deep breaths.

Levi had a million questions, but one look out of the car window showed Kenny’s silhouette, black against the hallway light. Strands of rain obscured his features but it was clear that he was watching ominously from the doorway. Evidently Hanji clocked the same thing, clicking her key in the ignition.

“First things first…” 

The car reversed, then pulled off the pavement edge, tyres making wet squelching noises as they pivoted through every puddle. Hanji navigated the dark lanes, driving slowly down the narrow gaps between stationery vehicles. Levi was shallow-breathing until he knew they were at a safe distance; then the questions surfaced again.

“What… the fuck… is going on here?”

Hanji turned almost three-quarters in the driver seat to wave at him as if seeing him for the first time. “Hello again!”

Her colleague let out a noise of alarm, grabbing her shoulder and forcing her to face the road. “Try not to get us killed!”

After that, he turned to face Levi himself. “My name’s Moblit. I work with Hanji. And Erwin sent us to collect you.”

“Why would he send _you?”_ Levi demanded tersely. They were the least convincing cops he’d ever seen.

“Why _wouldn’t_ he?!” Hanji was running on pure adrenaline. It was as if the experience had sucked all the energy out of Moblit, and given it all to her instead. While he was drained and pale, she was apparently unable to stay still.

She held her palm up to Moblit, fingers outstretched. “This hand just shook the hand of a serial killer. Did you see it?”

Her assistant looked frankly horrified at the prospect and guided her hand back to the steering wheel.

“How can you take this so lightly? We were just in the presence of a man who murdered people… lots of people.”

Hanji breezily disregarded his worries. It wasn’t as if she admired a murderer, but there was something dangerous and once-in-a-lifetime about walking into a serial killer's house and shaking his hand. That went double on a day when she had been dealing with his victims' real life bodies.

“How many people get to do that, huh, Levi? How many people get to talk to a serial killer?”

Having been living with one for a few decades, Levi didn’t agree that it was that interesting, but he was more distracted by how much she kept turning to talk to him in the back, and how she absent-mindedly floored the car every time her voice picked up tempo.

“Eyes on the road, dumbass.”

Levi put a hand on her face and shoved her back, deciding Moblit was the voice of reason here. To his surprise, Hanji yelped, spasming forward in her chair. Moblit made a noise very similar to hers, his hands clutched tightly to the edges of his seat like it might save him.

Hanji shoved her hand up the back of her coat, something making clicking noises as she pulled it. In her distraction, the car wavered on the road.

A second later Moblit took over, pulling up her coat and unclipping something from the back of her shirt. At first Levi thought they had gone into Kenny’s house with a wire, but then he recalled that Kenny hadn’t said anything incriminating anyway.

“Hanji, please!” Moblit’s voice was plaintive as he collected big stationery bulldog clips in his lap. “Be more careful! We want to get to the prison in one piece.”

The whole scene was such a clusterfuck that Levi found himself wishing he had just been arrested by Mike again. His already narrow patience had dwindled to a thread.

“Somebody tell me what the fuck is going on,” he growled. The chaos subsided, and Moblit obviously took his words as a threat. Either that, or he felt bad for the messy unfolding of the situation.

“Erwin sent us,” he repeated. “He arrived at the lab with two sets of uniforms, your address, and made us memorise reading your rights. He told us to get in and out, give away as little information as possible.”

It was only in hindsight that Levi realised neither one of them had given their names when they spoke to Kenny. That didn’t stop Moblit from looking at Hanji judgmentally.

“Don’t give me that,” she said defensively. “Erwin told me to turn up the heat a bit. Freak him out, put a bit of doubt in his mind.”

_“Why?!”_ Levi demanded, voice intense. Pushing Kenny sounded like a stupid idea to him.

“Who knows?” she answered nonchalantly. “But when it comes to serial killers, I’m the person for the job.”

“A real cop would’ve been more convincing,” Levi bit back, but almost as soon as he spoke, he added it up; Erwin didn’t trust any of the real cops. Either he thought they were corrupt, or he thought news would get out. 

Hanji grumbled, settling comfortably into the driver’s seat. “I did okay. Except this uniform. Those shirts are Erwin’s own. I could’ve worn it like a dress. And Moblit looked like a kid in his dad’s uniform.”

Moblit looked a little put out by the comment, but nonetheless, held up the bulldog clips for inspection. “We had to use these to pin them up. We came straight from the office to you.”

It was slowly becoming clear to Levi just how dark Erwin believed the situation to be. He had sent Levi back into danger, then erased the influence of all his colleagues, even Mike. And now he had pushed two civilians into snatching Levi back at short notice. Things were bad. But still, more than anything, he just wanted to see the big idiot again.

“Where are you taking me?”

“Weren't you listening? Hanji asked. “Prison!”

Levi was aghast. “Are you really telling me this is the best he could come up with? Frame someone else, then send two kids in cop outfits to throw me in gen pop for something I didn't do?”

Moblit felt badly for him, although he himself might feel safer in prison than alone with Kenny Ackerman. “Even though you're going to the prison, it can't be a real sentence. My best guess is he's keeping you safe.”

Both men shifted their eyes towards Hanji as she screeched to a halt after nearly missing a turn, forced to re-evaluate their definition of ‘safe’.

Levi looked out of the window at the concrete building looming in the darkness. They were at the prison, a soulless place that had already claimed six months of his life. He hoped Erwin knew what he was doing.

Moblit opened the door for Levi, who was still cuffed, and kept him that way as they led him from the dark outdoors into the bright fluorescent light of the prison. Levi’s eyes flickered this way and that, observing the peeling paint and uneven linoleum. Every corridor looked the same, and he didn’t even know where he was anymore.

A faded sign indicated that they were in the solitary confinement section. Hanji unlocked the heavy metal door, letting it swing open.

“Oh… this is kind of nice!” she exclaimed. Levi, intrigued, cautiously advanced into the doorway himself.

He saw a surprisingly well-kitted out little room. It didn’t resemble a cell at all, It was clean, and instead of the regular prison bedding, it had a neat, soft ivory duvet. There were even cushions, not just the regulation single polyester pillow. A tiny white painted cabinet had been brought in. Beneath it was a mini-fridge and on top of it, there was a kettle and a plastic tub of teabags. It looked like a prison cell repurposed into a hotel room. He gave both scientists a questioning look.

“He must have set it up for you,” Moblit deduced, as he finally took Levi’s wrists and uncuffed them. “Because this is the exact room he told us to bring you to.” 

The shorter man absent-mindedly rubbed his fingers where the cold metal had bound him, taking in the details. He noticed a travel-size satchel on the bed that he had never seen before. 

“This is where we say goodbye,” Hanji declared. “We promised not to get noticed by too many people, and to call Erwin as soon as you’re out.”

The way she scanned him from head to toe made him feel like she was excusing herself; he felt a little lost, needing some time alone, and he was disturbed by how easily she had assessed it, even in her manic state.

They made their goodbyes quick, and then the latch clicked behind them. There was the usual small, barred gap in the door for wardens to look through, but someone - probably Erwin - had stuck a piece of cardboard over it, offering him a privacy that real convicts didn’t get.

Levi felt like he was in some surreal alternate reality as he sank down onto the bed. Now that he was alone, he opened the satchel.

It was full of the clothes that Erwin had bought him, the book they had been reading together, and Levi’s notebook of his lessons. Scrunched down the side of the bag was a rolled-up slip of paper.

_Hello Levi,_

_I put a few things in the cell for you, to make things comfortable - after all, you’re not actually supposed to be in prison! And I know you probably missed having these cosy jumpers. If there is anything missing that you want just text me and I’ll bring it for you._

_You’ll only see one warden - his name’s Gunther. You can trust him. There is an on-site gym and shower room only for staff, and he’ll let you in if you ask. He’ll also bring you anything else you need._

_I’m sure Hanji and Moblit did an excellent job, but we’ll talk more when I visit about how you think it went with Kenny, and what I need you to do next. It’s been very quiet at home since you left and I confess I have missed our chats. It will be good to see you again._

_Best wishes,  
Erwin._

Levi was awake for a few more hours in the cell, but he slipped it under his non-regulation pillow before he went to sleep.


	47. Comfort Zone (10th September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin visits Levi in 'prison'.

As Erwin walked through the prison, he felt a strange fluttering in his chest that he hadn’t had for many years. He liked people, but he never really missed them, never pined for them. Except now, when he thought of Levi, he found he wanted very much to see him. It was strange. It was pleasant.

Out of politeness, he knocked on the door before entering the little holding cell where they had placed Levi. He had tried very hard to make the place more comfortable, warm and homely for him so it wouldn’t be a bad experience. If anything, he suspected Levi might actually enjoy the clean little room, solitary and safe.

“Come in.”

Levi had imagined it was his warden again, a tall dark man named Gunther who Erwin had apparently picked to attend to him. He didn’t dislike the guy; polite, not wordy, expressed a willingness to deliver tea supplies.

But Erwin was an unexpected visitor. Levi sat up, book in hand, wondering if his surprise showed on his face. He hoped he wasn’t as transparent as he felt.

“Hello!” Erwin said with a bright smile as he stepped inside. He liked Levi’s lounging pose on the bed, book in hand. Upon seeing Erwin he set the book flat on the bed beside him, suddenly sitting upright and reaching out. From the look on his face he was seeking something, but it looked like he caught himself, sheepishly lowering his arms, withdrawing just short of offering a hug.

Erwin steeled himself, using his giddiness at their reunion to fuel his courage, and crossed over to the bed in a few short strides, sitting beside Levi and claiming the hug anyway. He felt Levi’s muscles stiffen for a second, then unclench at once, as if the man was melting in his hands.

“Hmm…” He smiled, breathing him in. “I missed you.”

Levi made a wordless mumble into his shoulder, which Erwin chose to interpret as something nice. He pulled back, finally looking at Levi properly again.

Not knowing where to begin, he chose an open question. “How are you doing?”

“Not bad.”

He’d forgotten that open questions didn’t much work on Levi. 

“Can you tell me what happened while you were with Kenny?”

“It was tense.” Now Levi shifted, sitting cross-legged on the bed, his knee resting on Erwin’s thigh. As if he suddenly remembered, he prodded Erwin’s arm with a finger. “And what the fuck were you thinking, sending _Hanji_ to get me?”

“Ah, my fake officers... apologies for the shock that must have given you.” Erwin wasn't surprised to get a grilling about it. “But she called me to say it went well, and you are here, safe.”

Levi scoffed. Maybe it went well from the perspective of a woman whose best friends were cadavers, but he felt otherwise. “Only if you _want_ Kenny on high alert.”

“If you think he might be concerned for his own safety again, then Hanji has done a perfect job for me.” Erwin looked unperturbed, explaining his rationale while his fingers idly danced across Levi’s knee. “Tell me, did he seem worried? No one knows him the way you do.”

Levi doubted that he could understand Kenny’s mind. He didn’t think _Kenny_ could understand Kenny’s mind. Still, he took a guess. “Probably. He was already suspicious anyway. Been watching me day and night.”

Knowing the paranoid criminal he’d been fighting all these years, Erwin had expected that, but he still felt a pang of guilt that he had to put Levi into that situation.

“I owe you a lot for agreeing to go back. Even more so now we know just how much Kenny suspected you…”

Levi looked unconvinced. “I don’t think he _really_ suspects me. More like he suspects everyone. He told me his insider couldn't find all the records for the victim's brother being arrested. I don’t know why he’d let me in on that fact, if he really doubted me.”

That was worrying news to Erwin. “I wondered if he would see through that eventually. There was only so much I could falsify, but it bought us enough time.” Despite the risk, he’d hoped that Kenny wasn’t sharp enough to figure it out. With every step, his adversary only proved his competence more and more.

Erwin moved his weight further on the bed, letting his back rest against the cool wall of the cell, getting comfortable. He didn’t want to leave anytime soon now that he was back. To his surprise, Levi did the same, withdrawing towards the wall and curling up like a cat at his side.

“Was it useful to you?” he asked. “Me being there?”

“I wouldn’t feel able to continue my case without it,” Erwin assured him. Levi looked into his eyes and nodded, re-acquainting himself with that particular shade of blue.

“Now, how are you settled in here? I know it must have been a shock to be taken to a prison, but hopefully Hanji explained that it was for your own safety?”

Levi looked doubtful. Hanji didn’t explain much at all. “The other guy did. Hanji was too busy treating Kenny like a celebrity.”

For the first time, Erwin looked concerned. “Like a celebrity? I was sure she would be excited, but she wasn't too over the top, was she?” 

It took him a moment to diagnose his own unease, since he was the one who told Hanji to act suspicious. As he pictured it further, he realised that he was most nauseated by the idea of someone as clever as Hanji offering adulation to a killer like Kenny.

“If you wanted him rattled, you got your wish.”

Erwin settled for that, putting his own undercurrent of anxiety to one side for now.

“It goes without saying I'm sure, but no one except the the two of us, and Hanji and Moblit, know the truth of your supposed incarceration.”

“You don't trust any cops anymore?”

Erwin’s eyes steadfastly fixed on a hairline crack in the opposite wall. It sounded so harsh when Levi said it out loud.

“I can't afford to trust them right now. There's too much at stake to take a risk by letting anyone within the force know where you are. Even if they are innocent, word travels fast…”

Levi fell silent, thinking that this must be an isolating position, and wondering if Erwin was in any danger by doing this alone.

Breaking the silence, Erwin slapped his knees, getting up slowly to avoid bumping his head on the bunk above them. “Let me make us some tea.”

Levi wondered if Erwin had owned a mini-fridge or if he’d gone to buy one when he planned this false arrest. For some reason he was imagining Erwin whistling to himself as he drove a trolley cart around a supermarket, throwing in any homely furnishings he could find, all in order to re-decorate a prison cell. 

“I didn’t expect to find this once I got here.” Levi’s gaze meandered across the room, lingering on the soft bed covers that Erwin had provided. “Mini-fridges and fancy blankets… The crazy shit my uncle has you doing… you’ll be glad when it’s all over.”

Erwin made a hum of amusement, wearing the softest smile. “When I saw how bare this room looked, well… you’re not actually supposed to be in prison. I could hardly let you live here like that. Sad threadbare sheets making you cold and no place to store the milk for your tea? You don’t deserve that.” He paused, sensing that Levi wanted more from his response.

“As for being glad when it’s over… well. I’ll be glad he’s in prison. But the chase is exciting. I only do what must be done, but I’m good at it.” He admitted it as if it were a shameful confession, then brushed it away quickly. “Anyway. There’ll be more work for me once Kenny is behind bars. The only sorry thing would be saying goodbye to you. Living with someone - with you - has been surprisingly enriching.”

Levi’s expression softened. He had been hoping not to be abandoned like a tool that had served its purpose once the chase was up. Nothing was guaranteed, but this exchange gave him a sliver of hope.

Still. Kenny needed to be locked up, otherwise Levi predicted that someone else would be dead in about a year’s time. That was roughly how long it lasted, before the fear wore off and his uncle got cocky again.

Silently, he watched as Erwin set down their tea, tendrils of steam rising from the mugs Gunther had delivered. They were obviously freebies from events, each bearing logos of networking groups and career programs. Erwin was probably upset that they didn’t have terrible jokes on them.

He settled his hand on Erwin's broad thigh, fingertips sinking in just a little. Realising that he had made quite a forward physical advance, he started speaking quickly to try and distract from what he’d done. It didn’t work; the blond’s heart was already aflutter, surprised by all this extra affection that Levi was offering.

“Not much more to say about living with Kenny. He's laying low to avoid your people looking his way. And it doesn't seem like he trusts anyone from his group right now either.”

Erwin mused on the idea that his criminal was in the same position as him, isolated from his ‘colleagues’. In some weird and twisted way, he had manoeuvred them both into mirror worlds.

“That's good news. He's isolated, and he doesn't believe he's in the clear. Did you place your call to him like I said?”

“Yeah…” Levi had called from the main prison line, so it would be convincing, but Kenny hadn’t answered. “I got voicemail.”

“But you did ask him to visit?” Erwin asked urgently.

Levi sounded irritated. “_Yes._ ASAP. Now are you going to tell me why you want him visiting me when he’s shit-scared?”

“I’m appealing to his sense of self-preservation,” Erwin explained. “The next step requires your help again, but it is a simple task this time. You won’t be in any danger.”

He spoke nervously, as if he expected more pushback, but Levi wasn’t fussed. As long as he could stay here, nothing would be as bad as last week.

“Uh-huh.”

“When your uncle comes to visit you, I'll have a list of questions for you to give to him.” Erwin’s voice had switched into chief-mode easily. “Say they are from your lawyer, and you need to know the answers.”

“What makes you think Kenny is going to give a fuck if I go to jail?” Levi frowned. Kenny didn’t really want to lose such a useful contact as Levi, but in such dire circumstances, he was only ever going to look out for himself.

“Because we'll make him believe that he could still be in trouble himself. That's why I asked Hanji to put the scares on him…” Erwin looked a little proud of himself, and hoped Levi would forgive that. He hadn’t been able to share his plans with anyone since he’d started keeping more secrets than ever.

“We'll make him believe that the case is centred upon you and an accomplice. He will assume that he’s in the running as the other guilty party, so it will be in his interests to help you.”

Levi’s eyes half-closed, a sign of exasperation. This tangled web was getting too much for him lately. “_Two_ murderers?”

Erwin nodded, his expression the opposite, sharp eyes gleaming. “He will believe that the police are looking for two murderers. You need his information to pin Rebekka’s murder on Alicia. If he doesn’t help you, then perhaps their eyes will turn towards him instead…”

When he saw Levi’s disparaging look and felt him bristling with tension, Erwin hastened to reassure him.

“I promise there will be little deception required on your part. I will give you a written list, and all you need to do is hand it over.”

Levi took some comfort from that. He had once been a creature of routine - though that felt like a lifetime ago - and his life had been tipped upside down over the last month. Now he was moving from place to place, being dragged into tangled webs of intrigue, every move a shrewd calculation. Every time he jumped one obstacle, either Erwin or Kenny was throwing him another.

Still, he was relieved to have Erwin back; even the solid weight of him sinking the bed beside him somehow reassuring, just a big warm presence. He couldn’t outright say it without feeling foolish, so he muted it.

“It was weird living alone again.”

“You mean living with Kenny?”

“Same thing.”

“I wouldn't like to compare, but... being alone in the flat again, it was strange. Hollow. I kept wanting to ask you something, and then remembering you weren’t there.”

Levi felt a strange pressure in his chest. If he were alone he might have shed a tear or two. Erwin wasn’t lying, he knew that much. He’d never felt like someone missed him before.

“I didn’t like… sleeping alone,” he said eventually, feigning nonchalance. He felt himself yawning, covering his mouth with the back of his hand. It was terrible timing; it betrayed exactly how well he had managed to sleep without Erwin at his side.

Erwin bit his lower lip with a boyish embarrassment as he remembered how he had woken up hugging his pillow once or twice.

“Your insomnia came back?” he asked, redirecting the conversation.

"Not exactly, I..."

He thought about the nights that Kenny _hadn’t_ come ransacking his room. Even then he kept waking up thinking he was at Erwin's, only to remember where he was. The nightmares had come back full force, recurring night after night. His subconscious knew just what he didn’t want to see. Faye Scadden climbed into bed with him, streaking blood all over the sheets. Or he dreamed of Kenny walking into the room, then shooting himself point blank in the temple. He imagined several overflowing syringes stuck in his own wrists. His mother stood by his window, and his own screaming woke him up but still wouldn't make her turn around.

"...just tired,” he murmured.

Erwin would normally have left, going home and allowing Levi some time to rest, but he had the odd niggling doubt in his head, that he shouldn’t go too soon. Spotting the book on the bed sparked an idea.

“I know. Why don’t I read to you for a while? You won’t have to concentrate much.”

Levi made a small grumpy noise at the idea of being read to like a child, but it was only a nominal protest out of pride. He didn't fight Erwin when he reached out for the book, and his moody expression soon faded.

When Erwin found their page he noticed that the makeshift bookmark was the receipt from the tea he had ordered, back when Levi first arrived at his apartment. He missed those times already. Taking a deep breath, he began reading.

“Cleo saw Atma there, wide awake, staring in her direction. He was still in the salt circle. She breathed an audible sigh of relief.”

Erwin hesitated. He was tempted to put on voices while reading, but he suspected that Levi would have cringed and mocked him. Given that he was now sitting stretched out on the bed, with Levi in the crook of his arm clutching his tea, he didn’t want to break the fragile gift he’d received, and decided to save it for another day.

““Good morning Atma.” She greeted him cheerfully, hiding any apprehension--”

Levi leaned in, squinting at the page. “Why does ‘apprehension’ have an S and ‘information’ has a T?”

“I admit that I never thought about that before,” Erwin said with mild surprise. It was interesting to see these oddities through Levi’s eyes. “I suppose there is a reason. I will find out before we meet again! I’m sure if I was a real teacher I would know.”

“You idolise teachers too much,” Levi observed. He himself had never been too keen on them. Then he prodded the page, prompting Erwin to continue. He liked the deep, mellow voice washing over him. It was almost addictive.

“"It's cold up here," the demon said. He was eyeing her from head to toe, raising an eyebrow at her soft, pastel pyjamas. It prompted her to look at his attire. She thought demons would wear ominous old robes and look ethereal, but Atma had chosen a plain black tunic.”

Erwin paused to beam at the description. “Hmm, cute.” He thought there was something sweet about the idea of these two opposites, this dark demon and this soft, shy girl. Then he couldn’t resist adding, in a quiet voice, with a sheepish grin; “Why does this give me such a warm feeling?”

Levi scoffed under his breath. He never predicted that someone who grew up on highbrow classical literature would still be enthralled by simple teenage fiction.

“What’s ‘ethereal’?” he asked.

“It means other-worldly, like… angelic or magical. Have you heard it before?”

Levi shook his head, then repeated the word softly to himself. Erwin seemed slightly ethereal to him. Blond hair and blue eyes. All soft smiles and clean edges. Big and broad and patient. More angel than demon, though.

"Atma’s dark eyes were full of silent laughter. Apparently the idea of a loving relationship between demons was risible--"

"What's that mean?" he mumbled dozily.

"It means to find something funny because it's ridiculous," Erwin replied. "Like a ludicrous concept."

_Like the idea of a cop falling in love with the man he'd arrested?_ he asked himself, pinching the bridge of his nose and squinting his eyes shut. God, he was in too deep.

He kept on reading, but after a few paragraphs with no questions he stopped and looked down at Levi. His eyes were closed, dark eyelashes settled still against his pale cheek, and his steady breathing now sounding in the otherwise silent cell. Erwin closed the book, carefully extricating the empty teacup from Levi’s fingertips and settling it beside him instead. He let his head rest against Levi's, feeling every bit of scant warmth from his body where it touched against his own. 

He decided to give him ten minutes and then wake him.


	48. War Games (10th September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny visits Levi in prison.

Gunther knocked softly, and when he got no reply, he slipped his hand through the bars of the small window, lifting up the thin flap of cardboard that covered it. In the gap, he caught a glimpse of the confounding scene in the unlocked cell. At first he thought the prisoner -- or whatever he was now -- was crying, his head on the chief’s shoulder as he was being consoled. Then he realised they were both asleep, backs against the wall, a book open between them.

It seemed awkward to intrude, but it _was_ an emergency.

He knocked harder, hoping to gently alert them, but it didn't work. Levi flinched up, reaching out for a knife only to remember that he didn't have one nearby. Having failed in his task, Gunther opened the door with no reservations. Levi looked away, expression stormy.

At his side, Erwin woke up slowly, blinking and rubbing his eyes. It took him a few moments to focus and register that the warden was in the room. He couldn’t help a soft groan.

"I fell asleep," he murmured pointlessly through his groggy thoughts. He pulled away from Levi as quickly as he could, feeling like a teenager caught smoking behind the sheds.

“Sorry, guys,” Gunther spoke quietly, leaning around the door frame. “But Mr Ackerman has a visitor.”

Levi and Erwin looked at each other, frozen for a second before both sprang to action. Levi quickly whipped off the jumper he was wearing, one of Erwin’s purchases from him last month. Prisoners were allowed some of their own clothes, but this one looked too new, too fancy, and it fitted him too well to come from some communal prison store. Instead he grabbed an old regular grey t-shirt, far too big but suitably undeserving of anyone’s notice. He quickly switched, flinging his jumper on the bed.

“I didn’t expect him to respond so quickly,” Erwin muttered as he flicked through the panels of his work briefcase. Was it concern for his nephew, or mere self-preservation that had driven Kenny here so quickly?

“We didn’t go over anything.” Levi felt stupid for taking it easy, reading with Erwin instead of asking him more questions about their plan. But the chief had no such concerns, victoriously presenting him with a handwritten note.

It bore a company title in fancy gold print alongside a smart logo; probably a law firm, judging by the name. The black ink noted beneath it wasn’t Erwin’s, but a cursive, scratchy hand. Levi looked at it questioningly.

“So this is from… my lawyer?”

Erwin nodded. In fact, Armin had written it on his own company’s letterhead, putting his law degree and years of experience to good use alongside Erwin’s machinations. The questions might make limited sense to Levi, but perhaps that was best.

“Your lawyer needs this information to fight your case. And remember; the police think there were two murderers. Your plan is to blame Alicia for Rebekka’s death.” Kenny should be invested in achieving that too, so he hoped to extract the criminal’s full efforts.

“What happens if he sees through it?” Levi sighed, still gazing over his shoulder at Erwin as he offered his wrists out to Gunther, letting the warden snap a pair of steel handcuffs into place.

“That doesn’t matter,” Erwin said, with false bravado. “Even if I don’t get the information I need, you won’t be in any danger. We’ll just start again.”

Levi raised an eyebrow, skeptical. He wasn’t worried about his personal safety, just the idea of destroying Erwin’s carefully-laid plans. But there was no more time; Gunther was placing a broad hand on Levi’s shoulder, ready to lead him away.

On the way through the labyrinthine corridors, Gunther reassured Levi that he would be in visual range the whole time, ready to intervene if things went south.

“Visiting hours already started, so there’s already people in there,” he warned. “Good luck.”

Stepping in the visiting room was like entering an upside-down world. The dark grey walls felt like an actual cell, and the fluorescent lights sparked off the pale tiles of the scratched floor. Levi was the prisoner, and the murderer was sitting on the visitor’s side, with his arms folded and a forced nonchalance on his face.

“Which one’s yours?” Gunther asked, knowing the answer. Levi assumed he was playing dumb, so Kenny wouldn’t realise that they had been preparing and waiting for his visit. After he nodded his head at the man in question, his warden nudged him forward, directing him to the chair before finally removing the cuffs, looping them over his own belt and backing away to stand against the wall, still as a mannequin, watchfully waiting.

Levi faced his uncle across a plastic table, wobbling on the crooked tile. The features were all the same, but cast in a new history. The broad creased forehead, the narrow steely eyes, the hard-set mouth. Nothing had changed, but it was all different. It wasn’t the face of his guardian, his own blood, the adult who raised him; now it was just the face of the murderer who framed him, who buried people before their time.

Levi didn’t know what to say, his mind drawing a blank. The silence felt urgent, but the hum of conversation in the room was low. The other prisoners were engaged in a flurry of inactivity, listlessly sat at their own tables, providing no cover to hide behind. It felt as if everyone could hear him, as if he were trying to shelter under a spotlight.

In the end, Kenny was the first to run out of patience.

"Well, you called me," he said, irritable. "And I'm here. So talk. Know it ain't your strong suit at the best of times but now that's the whole damn point, so out with it."

Levi restrained his anger at that acerbic tone. It was lucky for Kenny that Erwin had provided him with a soft, clean, solitary bedroom rather than an actual stainless steel prison cell. It would have been much harder to play nice with this man who was ally and enemy all at once if he had actually been in general population.

"Fine. I need your help."

He reached into the pocket of his grey, ragged jeans, bringing out a cursive written note. Just as he’d known it wasn’t Erwin’s, Kenny would know it wasn’t Levi’s.

_What time did each victim die?  
Was either one injured?  
Where were the bodies found?  
Who found the bodies and notified the police?  
Were the women drunk, high or otherwise intoxicated?  
Are the women known to the police?  
Were items taken from the bodies or the house?  
Was there any attempt to contact the ambulance?  
What type of weapon was used?_

Kenny took a minute to review it, unmoving except his eyes, darting across the page before zeroing in on Levi again. The dull shine in them was hard to read.

“Who’s asking?”

"Got a lawyer. She said this is what I need to know.” Levi kept his version of events explicitly ambiguous, arousing as little suspicion as possible. “This is the shit the police are going to hang me on.”

Kenny scraped his chair into a straight angle and crossed his legs, ankle on knee, mirroring Levi. “How’d you afford a lawyer?”

“I didn’t.” Luckily Levi had been arrested before, so he had a plausible answer within reach. “Just a crown lawyer, state-provided.”

“What’s it matter to her if some dead chick was drunk or high?” his uncle demanded.

Levi exhaled slowly as he leaned his head on one hand, looking weary. It was oddly natural to talk to Kenny this way. Speaking to him had always felt like playing with fire, leaping out of harm’s way before he lashed out. This was the same, but with higher stakes.

“Fuck knows. But she’s got a plan. That’s why I need to know what the police think happened about those exact things…” He tapped the note.

"And you expect me to find out all of this shit?" Kenny asked.

Levi met his unblinking stare with one of his own. It was an open secret that Kenny had police contact, so he didn’t know why the man was skirting around the issue now.

"Didn’t you say you always have a plan?” Levi asked, politely insulting. Kenny’s icy eyes flared with indignation at the tone, so his nephew made a hairpin turn into softer speech.

“Anyway... anything is helpful. Doesn't matter if you don't get it all." He subtly exaggerated his helpless tone and body language.

There was something seriously funny about Kenny pretending he couldn’t find out the information about the murders. Levi reminded himself that even without a police contact, his uncle knew exactly what happened on that night. His was the hand on the gun.

"She's not going to plead innocence but she'll try and get me manslaughter or whatever, instead of double murder."

“Hm.” Kenny made a rasping little thoughtful noise to himself, picking apart the story in his mind, stress-testing it for plausibility. “Because murder’s life.”

“Uh-huh.” Levi was chilled at the thought; if he was found guilty of murder, the life sentence was mandatory. He’d be here for almost all his days, and not even in Erwin’s faux-prison, but a real one. He hoped he was playing this right. He'd hate to fuck up the final strokes of Erwin's master plan at this late stage.

It seemed as if Kenny was still uninvested. Levi wasn’t convinced that his uncle would work that hard to get it, so he decided to aim at the potential for Kenny’s own arrest instead.

Visiting hours were closing, and some family members were already saying their goodbyes, leaving one at a time. One particularly talkative group of individuals took their time, so Levi waited for the tumult to fade. Once the door closed behind them, he leaned in as if he and Kenny were co-conspirators despite their mutual differences.

“For some reason they think there are two killers; me and someone else,” he confided. “No clue why, but if the dead girl’s the killer, then nobody has to do time.”

When it came to lying he was extremely average, but he reasoned that it was a necessary evil right now. He could see Kenny doing the math in his head. If a dead person bore the crime, then Kenny walked free, so did Levi, and so did anyone else the cops were targeting.

"That ain't a bad idea,” his uncle admitted eventually. "That lawyer you got sounds half-decent." Bony knuckles rose and fell as his fingertips tapped against Armin’s letter.

Levi felt a restrained relief at the progress he was making in winning Kenny over. "She's not bad. Putting a story together for me.” 

"Well… I reckon I could get this info for you, maybe. I got my ways."

Not wanting to break the tenuous agreement they’d reached, Levi decided his silence was more eloquent than his words and simply waited while his uncle examined the note yet again.

"I've been readin' the news," Kenny eventually mused aloud, though Levi suspected that was more to reassure himself about his _own_ fate. "Not much detail though. Pigs ain't talkin' to the press much I guess."

Then his uncle looked at him properly for the first time since he arrived. Levi felt as if he could see a glimpse of Kenny’s mind, and knew that deep down, he didn’t want his nephew to be in jail forever. His self-preservation instincts were more powerful than his guilt, but if there were a way to save them both, Levi was convinced he’d take it.

It made Levi feel filthy to see the sympathy in his uncle’s face, albeit a cruel half-sympathy. He steeled his expression, not wanting an ounce of his true feeling to leak. He reminded himself that there was no such thing as a victimless crime; Mattias Friel, Suhana Sita, Adrian Smith. Hell, even the letter he was holding was written by a kid that Kenny had orphaned, tearing a family in two. Letting his uncle go free was an unacceptable solution.

It was a complex tangle of mixed emotions, and whatever his expression showed, it was enough to alarm Kenny.

"Oi, don't get moody," he urged, waving a hand, looking pointedly away to avoid his nephew's eyes. "I'll figure somethin' out. Manslaughter’s eight to twelve years. With good behaviour, you'll be out before you know it."

Levi gave him a non-committal stare. “I don’t care,” he said. “I can do jail. Done it before.”

It was a genuine imitation of the bravado he’d had as a teenager, willing to do the crime and the time. Subtle acting wasn’t normally in his repertoire, so he tapped that old attitude to make his current fiction true.

They both fell silent as the last couple separated, interrupted by the scrape of chairs on the floor and whispered emotional farewells. Levi guessed they were mother and son from appearances, watching the woman clasp the younger man’s hand, touching his hair, then his face, promising to pass on his messages to a Kirsty and a Sumit and a Helena. Out of politeness he set his gaze firmly on his own intertwined fingers.

Kenny glanced at his watch, realising their time was up, and pocketed Armin’s letter.

"I'll see ya in a few days,” he assured Levi as he stood and retrieved his coat from the back of his chair. When Levi glanced up at him from his seated position, he looked taller than ever, all his features thrown into sharp relief. Something about it made him feel like a 12 year old again, still looking up at Kenny like the man that knew everything.

Sometimes Levi missed the transient stability he’d had in Kenny’s household back then. It had never been easy, but it had been tolerable; until the deaths. Even if Erwin won this, it would be a devastating victory. The dead were gone, with no hope of anything other than a hollow justice.

His uncle cast his gaze down upon him, using a softer tone than Levi had heard from him in years.

"I’m sorry you're in this fuckin' mess, and I won't be sayin' that again."

Levi’s heart pounded. The guilt and the mixed loyalty was sickening. He wasn’t used to these war games, the way Erwin and Kenny manoeuvred and planned ahead and dragged in unwilling accomplices to reach their end goal.

He nodded, and Kenny set his large palm on the top of his head. Instead of ruffling his hair like he had when Levi was a kid, he placed it there for just a second, perfectly still, before turning and leaving.

The room was empty. Every chair was at a haphazard angle from each table. Levi stared at the opposite wall without really seeing anything.

He wished he could re-script this life, but he couldn’t control anyone. Kenny could not be persuaded; the dead could not be brought back. It was a zero sum game; someone was going to jail. All he could decide was whether it was the guilty party or an innocent one. Whenever the vocal dead appeared in Levi’s nightmares, he felt as if it were too late, as if there were no point to all these plans.

He tried to focus not on them, but on the potential victims out there now, ones that only Erwin could save. People who would be dead over the next ten years if Kenny’s organized anarchy continued to rule the city. To put Kenny in jail was to save someone’s life, someone he never knew, one of Erwin’s paper folders that didn’t exist yet. Wasn’t that worth it?

“Are you ready to go?”

The voice cut through the silent rioting of his mind. He had forgotten that he wasn’t alone in the room. Gunther was maintaining his distance, waiting patiently. Levi nodded yes, but answered no.

“Five more minutes.”


	49. Target Acquired (16th September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenny returns with the information Levi requested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Just to apologise for the delay with this chapter - Mercury_Rising is in the middle of PhD applications, which are taking up tons of time right now. But we'll do our best not to leave you hanging for too long with future updates, and stick to our weekly schedule as much as possible. :) - ClassisaNotFound.

Erwin had been finding excuses to visit the prison - sometimes on his way home from work, sometimes just “checking in” on Levi, sometimes to bring him another thing for comfort that he thought he might need. One thing about it was constant though; he would stay for as long as he could. _Well now I’m here, how about a reading lesson before I go?_

Today was no different. He was sitting on the bed, watching Levi’s concentrated expression as he leaned over the book. Erwin was fond of his mellifluous tone, and it was so even-tempered, slow-paced. His long days were spent entrenched in the mania of his office, balancing multiple interests, arguing via email, hearing phones bursting into song from every single corner, everyone grasping for his attention. These quiet moments listening to one solo voice were like balm on a burn.

“Usually when humans asked Atma questions, he didn't answer. Knowing that they summoned him for dark purposes made him… reti-kent?”

“Reticent,” Erwin chimed in. “Cautious, reluctant.” He picked up the tea that Levi had made him and took a sip.

Levi tutted. It should be _retisent_, then. English had no rules and it was frustrating to him.

As he continued through the chapter, he ran into few problems. It was hard to tell if he was getting lucky or if these lessons had really improved his reading. The demon, Atma, and the young woman, Cleo, had now been living together for a few weeks, with Erwin getting more and more invested in their story, and Levi getting more invested in Erwin’s excitement. The characters were trying every ritual, herb and magic spell to return the demon to the underworld, including crystal magic. 

“Cleo unpacked her linen bag which contained…” He stared, his glance bouncing back between Erwin and the page.

“Malachite. It’s a green stone.”

“And?” Levi demanded, pointing again at the very next word.

Erwin looked half-apologetic. “Oh. Celestine. I’m not sure what colour it is though.”

“Celestine…” Levi murmured. “And… obsidian.”

The cop practically beamed at him. “That was a complicated one!”

Levi looked away, slightly bashful. He would have said _mal-atch-ite_ and _kel-est-ine_, but _ob-sid-i-an_ just made more sense. No invisible letters or weird combinations. Erwin seemed so proud when he tackled something difficult, and it was an alien feeling.

“I wish you’d been a teacher,” he said quietly.

Erwin couldn’t help the pleased expression that crossed his face.

“Why do you say that?” he asked, but before Levi had a chance to answer there was a knock on the door and Gunther poked his head around, with a look of urgency.

“You have a visitor again, Mr Ackerman,” he said. Erwin glanced at Levi. If Kenny was back that must mean he had some information about the case. His stomach fluttered, and he knew that the wait for Levi to return would be agony.

“Go.” Erwin took the book, freeing Levi to quickly change his shirt again. He sped out of the room with a mournful glance back at the cup of tea that would be cold by the time he returned.

Kenny was waiting, drumming his fingers on the table top. He had been seated next to the window this time, and his side profile was noticeable as he looked out upon the depressing prison grounds. Levi rarely saw Kenny so still, so pensive.

“I got what ya wanted,” he said quietly, without greeting, as Levi was uncuffed and seated.

He accepted the note and gave it a quick glance; the additions were in his uncle’s handwriting, a bigger version of his own that dug a little harder into the page. It answered each question in the gaps underneath. And it meant little to him, but maybe this was Erwin’s goldmine.

Kenny had gone back to staring out of the window. It reminded Levi of a time when he had ended up in some fast food place with his uncle. He vaguely remembered the fight that got him suspended, but the details were lost in the fog of twenty years’ distance. The pair had sat on opposite sides of a cheap plastic table, forced to speak instead of just co-existing silently in a house. It was the first time Kenny had ever hinted at his own childhood.

Now they sat on opposite sides of a cheap plastic table during prison visiting hours. Levi wondered, not for the first time, how that day had led to this one, and pretended to read his note before nodding gratefully and pocketing it.

“That had better not be cash, Ackerman,” Gunther called from the edge of the room, and Levi’s head whipped around to face him. _Nice touch._

He yanked the note back out, unfolding it and holding it up for the warden’s attention. “You wanna confiscate my letters now, dumbass?” he demanded. Kenny sneered behind him, two identical expressions on two very different faces.

“Yeah,” he said mockingly. “It’s a note from your old Granny, askin’ how you’re liking your holiday.” He chuckled to himself, in a better mood after making fun.

Gunther waved a hand and looked away again, ushering them to continue.

Scowl fading, Levi turned back towards his uncle. “I’ll see her in the next couple of days and pass it along.”

“Uri says hello,” he began. “Always askin’ after you.”

Levi was surprised Kenny was making conversation, and almost wished he wouldn’t. He knew Erwin was awaiting his information, and he didn’t want to play nice while secretly conspiring to put Kenny behind bars. At the same time, he felt like this was his last chance to see his uncle, if Erwin’s plan worked and the murders were solved. Maybe Kenny felt the same, if he thought Levi was going down, and had chosen to linger.

“Remember when we got burgers?” Levi surprised himself with his voice operating far ahead of his brain.

His uncle narrowed his eyes, squinting into the past. “Nope. What d’ya mean, burgers?”

Levi felt mocked, that the day imprinted in his memory had meant nothing to Kenny. “When I was like… eleven. I got suspended.”

The light came on in Kenny’s eyes, a grin spreading from ear to ear. “Oh yeah… you were fighting, right?”

“Yeah. You took me for burgers.”

“Huh. Now why’d I do a thing like that?”

Levi didn’t know the answer, so he didn’t try to guess. “And… what you bringing that up for?” Kenny continued.

His nephew shrugged. The reason that day stuck in his memory so much is because he kept returning to it, wishing he’d been braver and asked for more details, because he’d been curious ever since. “You said you got in fights protecting my mother.”

Kenny raised one eyebrow, then scoffed. “Yeah. Once or twice. Kids are little shits, and she was a tiny thing, like you...”

For once, the predictable short joke didn’t come with a tone of derision. Kenny was saying it like a fact, not teasing. Forcing himself to make eye contact, Levi saw that he was mistily gazing out of the window again. 

“But she didn’t go lookin’ for fights. _Not_ like you.”

Levi frowned, folding his arms and leaning on the table. He wanted to protest that he didn’t go looking for trouble half as often as it found him, but he didn’t want to take Kenny out of this train of thought.

“You said your dad called _you_ a little shit.”

Kenny laughed out loud at that. “Ain’t he right?”

Levi gave a shrug, conceding the point. But he wanted to know more than that, and Kenny was being evasive.

“Sounds like he wasn’t so great either.”

“Nah…” Kenny took the thread and ran with it. “Off his damn face most the time. Both of ‘em. That’s how it works. If you don’t sell the misery, y’end up buyin’ it instead.”

The look on Levi’s face was incredulous and he was glad his uncle wasn’t looking to see it. It was as clear a statement of Kenny’s motives as he’d ever heard, but he didn’t understand why he had decided they were the only two options. “Is that what you think?”

“S’what I _know_. Anyone thinks they’re too good for coke, they’re on meth. Too good for meth, they’re on pills. Got a fancy ass job in the city, they keep it to weekends. Only drug that don’t kill you is money.”

Levi wondered if selling drugs really was the only alternative to using them that Kenny had ever dreamt up, or if he was making excuses for himself. But those scrutinising silvery eyes were on him now, and he anticipated a coming question. He decided to get in there first.

“Never asked about family before. Never met anyone. Except you and… my mother.”

Kenny rolled his eyes, tutting and speaking quietly. “What you keep callin’ her that for, eh? _My mother._ Soundin’ all fancy and shit...”

With a sneer and a curl of his lip, Levi scoffed right back. He did it because he’d only ever said ‘mama’ as a boy, and it sounded childish now. Normal kids graduated to “Mom” or “Mum” or whatever the fuck, but he’d never had the chance to call her that; it wasn’t ever her name. It felt like talking about someone who never existed.

“Kuchel, then.”

Kenny gave him a stare, one that Levi couldn’t decipher at all. Then he carried on as if nothing happened.

“Not much to know. Ain’t a big family.” 

_Then why are you getting rid of me?_ Levi thought, but kept it to himself.

Kenny’s fingers tapped on the table again, betraying his unease. “You wonderin’ if anyone else is gonna come visit you in prison? ‘Cause there’s me, and Uri--”

“No,” Levi interrupted him urgently. He didn’t need Kenny offering him consolation or company during his sentence, when he was planning to put the man in jail himself. It was like salt on the wound of his guilt.

Instead he gestured at their surroundings “This… this place. The cheap shit. Nailed down tables and scenery like...” He pointed, unimpressed, at the bleak landscape outside the window, which itself was thick reinforced glass. “Reminded me of that burger place.”

Kenny didn’t look altogether like he was buying it, but he didn’t look suspicious either, and that was enough.

After that, Levi let Kenny talk. It wasn’t important, just anecdotes about what stupid family drama Traute had, or his other associates, or Uri. Levi knew he’d pushed too hard, and now his uncle was getting defensively secretive. They spoke normally, and Levi put aside his reality, feeling twelve years old all over again. Time passed fast, and a warden called it soon enough.

“You best let me know what this lawyer has to say,” Kenny instructed, raising from his seat at the same time as multiple people around them, all gathering their coats.

“Sure.”

As Gunther put the restraints back on his wrists, Levi gave one last glance back. Kenny’s tall figure was walking down the whitewashed hallway, casting a long silhouette behind him as he bowed to put his hat back on his neat, slicked hair. It was a sight Levi had seen multiple times in his life. Aside from gaining a few wrinkles, Kenny had never changed. He was a force to be reckoned with, and Levi felt a strange, deep pain that he couldn’t just have been a normal law-abiding citizen. Hell, even a law-breaking one; Levi would have accepted that, if it had stopped short of murder. 

Just like last time, it all felt wrong. It couldn’t be right that they were on opposite sides now, or that Kenny had been willing to submit his nephew as the price for his crimes. He couldn’t stop wishing that it hadn’t turned out this way. It felt as if he’d been walking down a road, taken a wrong turn early in life, and now nothing was where it was meant to be.

“You okay there, man?” Gunther murmured low, now that they were alone. It shuddered Levi out of his thoughts. This time he had something to do. He nodded, following his warden.

To his surprise, Erwin was still waiting in his room, even though he’d been gone for the full hour. He froze in the doorway, unable to keep the slight smile from his face when he was feeling such a rush of gratitude. It didn’t even matter if Erwin was only there for Kenny’s information. This deeply unsettling feeling had left him, for once, wanting some company.

Erwin spotted the smile but couldn’t figure out its origin. Every door clanging shut and every heavy footfall had made his ears prick up during Levi’s absence, and he felt slightly foolish, like a puppy waiting for its owner.

As soon as Gunther made himself scarce, Levi handed Erwin the note, then switched back into his jumper.

Sheer impatience made Erwin’s gaze flip all over the page, and he had to force himself to slow down and go in order. His hands were steady but it was a conscious effort to stop them from trembling.

“Is that what you were after?” Levi asked, interjecting into his thoughts. Erwin looked up, wiping the look of apprehension from his face as soon as he realised he was wearing it. He had become uncharacteristically unguarded. He wondered if it mattered much in front of Levi.

“Yes,” he replied, taking out his phone to cross-reference the note against his detailed chart. 

The spreadsheet finally popped up on his screen. “Holy shit,” Levi whispered, looking over his shoulder. There were long columns of names, most crossed out, as well as charts and notes, boxes of green and red and grey marked things like “Lie”,”Truth”, “Unknown”. Erwin decided there was no risk in sharing the details now; in fact, it might be useful for Levi to know what had transpired.

“Whenever you told me that Kenny was on the phone with his informant, I circled the office and ruled out anyone I could see...” he murmured as he opened up another document. “Working from a list of everyone who had been in the case file on our system.”

“I kept the details on our computer system as restricted as possible, then fed some of my officers false information about the case. Now Kenny has come back with this. Between what they heard, what they can access, and what I lied about… by process of elimination…” He trailed off, anxious to find the answers.

Mike wasn’t first on his list, but he couldn’t help it; he scrolled straight down. Kenny’s note said that the informant didn’t know who had discovered the victims or whether the call to the emergency services had connected or not, and he knew that Mike was aware of both of those things. He’d also put a lock on the victims’ previous cases and then told Mike that neither of the women had a history. Yet when Armin’s note had asked if the victims were known to the police, Kenny had scrawled a circled letter Y, followed by _“minor crimes.”_

A weight lifted from his shoulders; he didn’t know if he could bear it if his old friend had betrayed his trust. The informant also claimed not to know who had discovered the victims, when Erwin had directly fed a lie about the neighbour to Nile. He exhaled heavily. He was 99% sure that Mike and Nile were innocent; they had been cops longer than him, and were high-ranking now. If they were corrupt, Kenny probably would have been unstoppable. But the doubt had been a weight on his heart.

The information Kenny had given Levi today was also fairly extensive, which meant that Ymir, Connie and Sasha were looking more and more innocent by the moment. Clerks, admins and PCSOs didn’t have the system clearance that Kenny’s informant apparently possessed.

Furthermore, Kenny’s report contained nothing about the strange gun he had invented for Connie. Hanji had lied to Ymir and said the overdose was only heroin, but Kenny’s note said they both had alcohol and methamphetamines as well - _“at least”_.

He’d asked Sasha about the Longsight area at 6am, but Kenny had accurately reported that the murders happened at 2am. No, it wasn’t Mike, Nile, Ymir, Connie, Sasha...

Jean Kirstein crossed his mind again. Erwin could estimate when Kenny’s informant had joined the force, and it was around the time of Kirstein’s intake, which was worrying. But his spreadsheet noted that he had lied to Jean about which victim died first, and invented a two-hour time gap between the deaths, yet Kenny’s information correctly said they died in a short space of time, with Alicia Jinn correctly named as the first fatality.

Petra? Oluo? Surely not. His heart was still pounding in his chest as he scanned Kenny’s list for an error. He’d told Petra that Alicia Jinn was beaten up, but the note accurately said there was no violence and no injuries other than the obvious. He’d told Oluo that both women were robbed, but the note had the correct detail; that Rebekka Johnson was found with a significant amount of cash in her handbag.

He had told Christa that Rebekka had tried to call an ambulance, but Kenny’s note reported with certainty that it hadn’t connected. He started to worry that Kenny had simply checked the deceased’s phone himself, or found out something he shouldn’t know, and he’d corrected Erwin’s lies, so that his plan hadn’t worked at all...

“No, no, no… no.” Levi watched Erwin’s lips mouth the word over and over as he skipped down each line. Eventually his eyes lit up, and he held the note as if it was a sacred, ancient scripture.

“The body was in the corridor,” he whispered, like he was deep in prayer. He looked at Levi as if his meaning was clear. It certainly wasn’t, but his smile was half-frightening, glancing between the note and his phone.

_Annie Leonhart._ She was so easily overlooked, not an officer but an evidence technician. Erwin had lied to her about the positioning of the bodies, and at his request, Hanji had lied to both Annie and Ymir when they had placed their respective calls. Annie had access to all the information Kenny had gotten right, and no access to the things Kenny hadn’t known. Most importantly, Kenny had reported that the body was moved before being found. It wasn’t. Only Annie had any reason to believe it was.

Erwin wished he could demand answers right now. Over the years, evidence had been corrupted, statements lost, Kenny’s gang had been warned of police intentions… everything had gone their way. They could have been behind bars years ago. Why? What did she get out of helping the gang? Was she being bribed? Blackmailed? Threatened?

“I think I know who the enemy is,” he said finally.

There was obvious pride on his features, as if a shadow had finally been lifted. 

“…Then, what now?” Levi said, eventually overthrowing the reign of silence.

“Now,” Erwin said thoughtfully. “I can move onto the next phase of the case. I can lock out the informant, stop any damage from being done to the case, and stop them from being able to feed further information to your uncle.” He smiled. “And we can get you out of here.”

He had been feeling some small niggles of regret that it had been necessary to have Levi pushed and pulled around, halfway living in prison; just not enough to stop doing it. Now that they were at the finish line, he could pull him out.

But Levi wasn’t following, heart sinking instead.

“I can’t go back to him. He’ll never believe I’ve been released again,” he protested. That was half of it. He also just preferred having his own space, prison or not. It was getting harder and harder to face his uncle, every single word flinging him back towards painful memories, and the torn loyalty preying on his thoughts all day long.

His voice lowered to a plaintive whisper and he couldn’t meet Erwin’s eyes. “Can I just stay here instead?”

Upon seeing the dismay, Erwin raised an eyebrow and held up a hand.

“Ah, no!” he said. “No, I’m not sending you back to _Kenny_. That wouldn’t be a good idea.” He couldn’t think of any reason to do that. Levi was right, it would be unbelievable. “I was going to suggest a better option would be to come back to my apartment. At least until the case wraps up.” 

Erwin was eagerly hoping for an acceptance, but the invitation was unexpected to Levi. It had been strange enough to personally harbour a criminal when he thought his witness was in danger, but now he had the information he needed, and the transformed prison cell was a viable alternative.

Then he recalled Erwin’s apartment, and the time they had spent there. He had missed it, but had never expected to set foot there again. He wanted to question the invite, but if he voiced it out loud, then the cop might rethink his plan and end up leaving his criminal here instead.

It occurred to Levi that he had been quiet for too long, and that he was being watched. “Oh... okay,” he said, trying not to let the excitement leach into his voice. This must be part of Erwin’s machinations. “I have to be at your house for the next stage of the plan?”

“No, not at all,” said Erwin with a slight frown that wrinkled his forehead. “Your part in the plans is over now, you can relax.” He smiled at Levi, hoping to reassure him, to ensure that he was clear he wasn’t being used anymore. “I just had a feeling you may not wish to return to a murderer. And I know you have no income, no job, no home without him.” He ticked each point off with his fingers, then ran a hand through his hair, just something to do with his nervous hands. “Besides that, I would like you there. It was nice to have your company.”

It felt like he was making himself vulnerable but he could feel the atmosphere between them, and could hear an enthusiasm in Levi’s voice that he wanted to encourage. His apartment had felt empty these last few weeks, and his life even more so. Never before had the solitude of it bothered Erwin, until he found out how pleasant it could be to come home to someone. No, he thought, not _someone_; just Levi.

“Then… yeah.”

Erwin beamed at him, elated by the answer, and in a better mood than ever after today’s developments.

“Let’s get you home.”


	50. Yours Truly (16th September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin brings Levi home from prison.

The time it took to brief the governor, get Levi packed, and get them home felt such an age to Erwin. Finally, though, he was opening the door to the flat with a smile on his lips and a fluttering of happiness in his chest.

It was a surprise realising just how accustomed he’d become to suppressing his emotions by default. Upon seeing Levi walking into the room he felt the urge from nowhere to wrap his arms around him and hug him tightly. Instead he stood there, back straight, and watched as his companion entered their home.

“I bet you want some tea,” he said to break the silence.

Levi looked over his shoulder with a slightly dazed expression. He felt as if he would wake up at any moment, not just because being here was too good to be true, but because these weeks of his life had been unlike any other. Even when everything was so surreal, Erwin always acted as if everything was mundane and routine. It was bizarre. He’d ask for childhood anecdotes about the serial killer that raised him, instead of murder details. He’d unveil his masterful grand schemes, then ask if they were low on milk a split second later. While defeating a criminal empire with half his brain, the other half was chattering about socks or silly teenage books.

This was no different. Erwin had unravelled Kenny's plans, and uncovered the rat in the station, yet his priority was apparently to bring Levi home and make him some tea.

Despite that, Levi nodded. He wasn’t going to turn it down but he looked sheepish. Their setup had at least been clear before. He was in a witness protection scheme, sort of. Now what was he?

"You must have shit to do tonight,” he guessed.

As he filled the kettle and retrieved two mugs from the shelf, Erwin’s mind did briefly thrill over how much progress he could make now that the obstacle was identified.

“I should send a few emails,” he answered. “Set up a meeting or two for the morning. Otherwise, I may as well… take the night off.” He paused, musing at the words he heard himself say, then smiled. “I never said that much, until I met you. And you wonder why I wanted you to come back.”

It was getting dark outside, and only the kitchen light was on. Levi softly approached the glow on the other side of the room, watching Erwin at work. The chief was like a creature that didn’t exist unless it was in motion. It was hard to imagine him alone, with downtime, just chilling… Even when he talked about hobbies, he seemed to make them a mission. Levi might not know much that he could teach Erwin, but he could definitely instruct him in the art of _taking a fucking break._

“What did you do?”

“Apart from work, you mean?”

“Mmhmm.”

Answering this question was a little embarrassing, and Erwin looked down at the boiling kettle and his distorted reflection in the shiny silver surface. It wasn’t that he was ashamed of how hard he worked, but maybe Levi would think he was a little sad for not having much more to him.

He thought about how his typical evenings and weekends used to be. They felt like a lifetime ago, but it was easy to picture himself sat alone in his office, radio by his side, slippers on his feet and the leftovers of a microwave meal going cold next to him as he researched yet another aspect of the cases connected to Kenny. Many of them led to dead ends and frustration, but they had, in all truthfulness, been good times. Peaceful, fulfilling, full of purpose.

For a moment he was stuck for what else to say. Then he looked around his little flat.

“I care for my plants,” he answered, gesturing to the collection thriving by the window ledge. “I settle down with a book sometimes - just choose a subject and read something on it from cover to cover. Walks in the park on warm afternoons... walking helps me think, and ice cream on the way back never hurt either.” Now he’d said it, he realised he did have relaxing hobbies, just perhaps not enough. “Now I can count your reading lessons in there.”

Levi felt a little sympathy for Erwin, picturing a lonely life, and then realised how ridiculous that was. He was just as bad, in his own way. But that was by choice. He wondered what choices Erwin would have made if Kenny hadn’t taken over his life. Imagine if Adrian Smith was alive. Levi pictured him sitting in this flat with his son, hanging out like normal families probably did. Adrian still looked like an old man version of Erwin in his head, though. And maybe Levi would be looking at a teacher instead of a cop right now.

“You can keep teaching me as long as you want,” he said quietly, leaning with his elbows on the counter. His voice sounded overly soft, so he shrugged, acting casual. “Tutoring is expensive. I won’t say no to free shit.”

Erwin chuckled, pouring out the freshly boiled water into the waiting mugs. He had so steadily transitioned to decaffeinated tea in the evenings that he’d barely noticed it, but he decided Levi was onto something with this stuff after all.

“I enjoy it, so I will,” he told him, as he passed the mug across the counter. It was true too; the activity helped Levi in a practical way while Erwin got the joy of teaching that he’d missed out on. And then there was Levi’s voice; deep but smooth, rare and easy to listen to. When he read aloud it was like a treat getting to hear it for so long.

Lost in the moment, he heard unexpectedly frank words tumble from his mouth.

“What I said earlier… you shouldn’t think your living here is dependent upon the case. Please stay as long as you wish.”

Levi wanted to ask why, but he didn’t want to risk Erwin changing his mind either. He gave the place a suspicious look, gaze combing over the homely, comfortable surroundings and the little things he had missed. Clean mugs. A dish rack. Cupboards with no missing handles. A fuzzy rug. Cushions. Little hooks for coats.

Then his gaze fell upon Erwin’s back as he put everything away. His crisp white shirt was tucked into his uniform slacks, hair still pristine. Although he looked put-together, his smile had seemed tired all week.

Levi was skirting around the issue in his own mind and he knew it. The place was nice, but it wasn’t about the house. It was about the company. If Erwin moved, Levi would follow him there. Assuming he wanted to be followed.

“I’ve never stayed anywhere I liked this much,” he said finally, finger circling the rim of the cup.

“I… can believe that,” said Erwin, reflecting on the state of Kenny’s houses. No matter how often he thought about it he would never get over the sadness of knowing Levi had lived in those disrupted, broken places. 

Levi already felt bashful over his confession without Erwin adding pity to it, so he reached up on tiptoes to tug at the cop’s fancy shirt epaulette. He was close enough for Erwin to see every individual strand of dark hair on his head.

“Oi. Get changed. It’s annoying looking at a cop all day.”

“You don’t like how I look in my uniform?” he asked playfully.

“I told you already,” Levi said grumpily, sinking back down to flat feet and his true height. He cringed every time he remembered telling Erwin that he looked good in uniform. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake again. “But cops are… you know.” _The enemy._ He’d wondered if it was time for him to stop thinking that way, but then he remembered that there was a cop out there who was Erwin’s enemy too.

“I admit, it is uncomfortable to wear for too long,” Erwin relented, apparently persuaded. He set down his tea, already unfastening buttons as he walked towards the bedroom. Since his cleaning had gotten a little lax while Levi was away he had a few odd pieces of laundry strewn across the floor, he nudged the door with his foot, hiding the evidence.

While unsupervised, Levi took the chance to refamiliarise himself with the place. He stroked a finger along the mini-shelf of photo frames, tutting slightly at the meagre spotting of dust. Then he looked closer at the photos. It was a row of young Erwins and older Adrians all beaming at him, a catalogue of the Smiths’ lives, from school to graduation.

One final photo stood out, just a group of friends all dressed up. None of them looked much older than thirty. The background was dark but it was crowded, like the setting was a pub or club. Levi recognised Mike straight away, and judging by their closeness, the woman next to him must be the girlfriend that had been mentioned. Then there was another couple, a tall dark guy with a smaller brunette. And then beside Mike, on the very left margin, was Erwin. Five people. Two couples and a lonely man. Levi’s imagination ran away with him, and he could suddenly picture it all as if it had really happened; Erwin going home alone, waving goodbye to two friends and then two more, before climbing into a taxi for one, the jarring transition from a thunderously loud nightclub to a silent, abandoned apartment with one bedroom.

A thud in the present made him turn quickly, until he realised that it was just Erwin’s usual heavy-handedness closing drawers. The door was slightly ajar, just a narrow strip in which Levi could see a few clothes littering the carpet. He rolled his eyes. Another task to add to the list. Then a shirtless Erwin stepped into the visible gap, wearing only a casual pair of grey sweatpants, and Levi nearly flinched until he realised he hadn’t been seen. Erwin was facing away from the open door, so Levi turned away, pretending that he was still examining the shelf, and restrained himself for a whole ten seconds before glancing subtly sideways again.

His view wasn’t obscene or even overtly exciting; Erwin was just putting on a jumper in front of the mirror, plucking at the sleeves and apparently deciding whether he liked it. But there was something strangely appealing about seeing him when he didn’t know he was being watched.

When he emerged, looking suitably casual in the white knitted sweater he had chosen, Levi turned as if for the first time. “Didn’t do much cleaning without me, huh.”

Erwin was polite enough to look ashamed of himself when he saw Levi’s look of resigned disapproval at the slightly dusty shelves. He made a beeline for his cup of tea as he made his excuses.

“I’d like to say I got used to you doing it,” said Erwin. “But I didn’t do that much before you stayed here either. Hope you’re not too disappointed in me.”

He didn’t happen to think that a thin layering of dust was much to be concerned about, but didn’t dare say so to his picky new roommate. “I’ll be sure to do better, and if I don’t you can slap me. Deal?” He picked up his tea and took a sip. “Must be a dream of yours, to slap a chief of police. I’ll even wear the uniform for full effect.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. “Don’t give me ideas...” His tone was mocking, but it was strangely refreshing that Erwin would even joke about it. Not like his friend, who thought Levi was a crazed violent thug, one who fell just short of murder. “Anyway… I’ll be doing the cleaning.” 

“As long as it’s not an obligation,” Erwin said, voice suddenly stern. “I don’t want you to feel like some kind of butler or house help. You are…”

He trailed off, trying to think of the right word for how he thought about Levi. Friend was too casual. Associate was too formal. Roommate made it sound like they were college students who’d drink every night and wreck the place. He frowned, gesturing into the air. “You know, my… ally, I suppose. My equal.”

"Tch, equal," Levi scoffed, but the faintly offended look on Erwin's face showed him that he'd meant it. Yet again it sounded like mocking, but the cop was being sincere. But from where Levi stood, it was a mystery how he could think that the two of them were equals.

“As I said, you should stay as long as you wish,” Erwin pressed on. “If you leave it up to me you will still be here when you’re collecting your pension.” He intended for it to sound jovial, but his face felt warmer the moment the words had come out. 

Levi had now pushed Erwin to say he could stay multiple times, and was still having trouble believing it. If he'd learned anything about the guy, it was that he didn't do things without a reason and a clear goal. He couldn't always figure out Erwin's motives or every step of the plan, but he knew there were never any unnecessary actions. Levi just hadn’t worked out what the payoff in keeping him here was. Especially not years into the future. Insurance against Kenny, maybe.

"Ever lived with someone before now?" he asked, as casually as he could, hiding his genuine intrigue.

Erwin wasn't quite sure what to make of all this. At every turn Levi seemed determined to bat away anything welcoming or warm. Yet it was also obvious that he wanted to stay.

"I have!" he replied, taking his tea over to the sofa so they could sit comfortably, sinking down into the cushions and smiling softly as Levi followed. "At university I lived with Mike. He was in third year, I was in second year. Somehow our friendship survived my messy habits and his over-sensitive nose for odors." 

A new thought occurred to him. "I hope that you and Mike can... get along. I realise you've had some rocky interactions, but I'll tell him he's not allowed to talk about work when he comes round here. He tells me that often enough!" 

Levi raised an eyebrow at the phrasing. "Rocky interactions?” he quoted sarcastically. “He arrested me."

He gave Erwin a decidedly unimpressed stare. He'd been fishing to find out whether Erwin had ever dated or been married before, but the cop had stomped that down, knowingly or unknowingly. He quickly dragged them back onto the subject, casting his line again. "That was the last time you lived with someone? It must've been half a century ago...”

"Closer to twenty than fifty, but… yes, that was the last time," said Erwin, unoffended by the age joke. "It sounds as if you think there is something wrong with that." 

"No." There was no implied 'but' at the end of Levi’s sentence. He was glad Erwin had never lived with someone before. Maybe he wouldn't look that bad by comparison if the guy had been alone all his life.

Erwin shifted on the sofa, getting himself comfortable, fully out of chief mode now. Changing from his uniform seemed to work wonders, as if he removed the job with the outfit and put it on a hanger in his wardrobe.

“See though, Mike brings this up now and again - tells me to at least..." A large hand gestured awkwardly while he searched for the words. "Get back in the game. He set me up a profile on a dating site once, without telling me." Erwin's expression was a mix of amusement and dismay as he thought about that experience. The strange flutter started up again in his chest; talking about this subject skirted very close to feelings he was trying his best to ignore.

"Most people live with someone, don't they. Including Stretch. He probably thinks you're lonely." Levi looked up from his teacup, fixing Erwin with a soft, dark look. “So are you?”

"I..." Erwin began, frowning, then realising he’d never asked the question of himself and didn't even know the answer. "I would never have described myself as lonely before. Now I think that's wrong. I was lonely, but too busy to notice. Then again..." His gaze wandered as he reasoned through it in his own head, speaking as if to himself. "Dating never seemed to do anything to fix that anyway... I didn't feel any different after having dinner with someone."

"Maybe you just needed to get laid." Levi said, blasé, speaking into his cup as he took a sip. Right on cue, Erwin laughed and looked away, down at his own half-full mug.

"Really Levi," he tutted, though it was with good humour. "I’m not a forty-year-old virgin, I liked some of the people I dated, but… well.”

Levi smiled into his own cup too; he liked saying shocking things around Erwin. His precious sensibilities always made him gasp or laugh or go pale at Levi's crude language and blunt responses.

But then Erwin looked slightly hurt by his memories, something akin to rejection or perhaps disappointment in his eyes. “It never felt quite right, or... they got tired of not hearing from me, or… there are lots of reasons things fall apart. I suppose I get so fixated on work."

When Levi saw the sincerity in his expression, he looked serious again. "If you solve Kenny, you'll be free. You can get married. Sail into the sunset. Make a bunch of little Erwins."

"I already told you I don’t want little Erwins. That’s not my life." The cop grimaced as he tried to imagine the flat full of toys and children. He pictured a little blonde girl and a little dark haired boy running around screaming, throwing things, chaotic and too messy, even by his standards.

“Marriage though... could you see me as someone’s husband?” He tried to sound nonchalant and there was a wry look in his eyes which seemed to assume that the answer was _no_. His throat went a little dry. He took a big gulp of tea.

Levi blanched. He immediately pictured Erwin as his husband, which was impossible. He tried to imagine a generic person, but it was hard to conjure something up out of nowhere. Just like drawing something, he needed a reference picture. So he settled for imagining an alternate Levi, in some universe where he'd been clean, stable, literate and worked somewhere normal.

Now he could imagine that Levi coming home with this Erwin, making tea together, watching movies together, cooking family size lasagnes, accompanying him on his garden walks with ice cream. It made him sad in a specific way. It felt like he was nostalgic except the memory he missed had never really happened. Imagining it wasn't sharp like stabbing grief or fierce like searing anger. It just throbbed like an ache, like a burn, when the skin was raw and any touching made him throb with pain. 'Sad' was too vague; this was just regret.

"Yeah - I could." He nodded. "If you married someone like you."

Erwin raised an eyebrow at that response.

"What do you mean?" he queried, eyes full of curiosity. He was picturing a clone of himself, these two workaholics trying to live a life together, the flat neglected for two people's worth of chaos. "Sounds like a disaster waiting to happen."

"I don't mean a big ass scruffy neurotic." Levi rolled his eyes. He thought his meaning was obvious but apparently not. "I mean... a homebody. Someone who doesn't demand your time... doesn't crave some big exciting life. You're not that bad, but you're not a thrill-ride."

He glanced over at the flourishing flowerboxes. "Maybe you're better off with a cat, or, a… a cactus."

Erwin frowned deeply, unsure if Levi was insulting him or not. He thought about the life that this man had led with his uncle; violence, drugs, strangers, chaos, disorder. He let a small huff out of his mouth.

"If that's the case," he said, choosing his words carefully. "I hope you won't be too bored living with me."

"Yeah. I'm a real bundle of fun myself." Levi used all the sarcasm he could muster. Erwin didn't seem to know what to make of the conversation, so Levi figured he probably wasn't speaking very clearly again. He sighed. Communicating was tiring.

"That is to say… I've spent enough of my life hiding from parties and human contact. I'm not looking for excitement. If you start acting like Kenny, I'll be climbing out of a window." He stared at the cop as if daring him to try it.

On the contrary, a smile flashed across Erwin’s face. It hadn't taken much to get the response out of Levi that he’d wanted.

"Then it sounds like you're fun enough for me," he said quietly. He hooked his empty mug and Levi’s on one finger, and on his way to the kitchen, he put his free hand on Levi's shoulder, intending it to last just a second.

But lightning quick, Levi’s hand came up to meet it. He exerted no force, but Erwin didn’t want to move and break the moment. Levi was still on the sofa, facing forward, and Erwin could only see his profile, eyes cast down. He was all coiled, knees curled up on the sofa, one arm crossed over his chest, his small hand reaching up to his own shoulder to meet Erwin’s.

Then Levi tilted his head back, willing himself to make eye contact. He’d looked at Erwin a million times, but this felt new, like he was really seeing him.

“Am I?” he asked quietly, pausing only briefly. “Enough for you?”

Erwin leaned forward, lips placing a soft kiss on Levi’s forehead. Normally he would have been afraid to make a step like that, with so much weighing in the balance, but he got the sense that Levi was asking for something, that he wouldn't push Erwin away.

Levi’s eyes went wide, stunned at the gesture. It was just a tiny little action, oddly intimate, but it made his skin tingle up to the roots of his hair.

He stood up, face to face with Erwin, reaching down to gently prise the mugs dangling from his finger, then leaning over to set them down on the countertop, maintaining their gaze in the process. 

“Is that all I’m getting?” he murmured.

The corners of Erwin's lips lifted into a smile. Expectations of rejection usually prickled at him from all sides, making dates more stressful than enjoyable, but being with Levi was so easy. He chuckled a little bashfully but summoned his courage and answered the question with another kiss, this time a real one, lips connecting.

His kiss felt much as Levi had always imagined; soft, warm, exciting and reassuring all at the same time. Then Erwin's palm came up, impossibly warm as always, caressing across his cheekbone and sifting through his hair, and for once, he surrendered.

As soon as it happened, Erwin knew it was going to be impossible for him to put his feelings for this man aside. He stayed close, gazing at the glimmers of the kitchen spotlights making little specks of light dance in Levi's eyes. He would have looked forever if Levi hadn't spoken again.

“And what about that?" He was wearing a half-smirk that captured Erwin's attention completely. "Is _that_ all I’m getting?”


	51. Midnight Exchange (16th September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin and Levi finally give in to the feelings they've been hiding for so long.

Levi flicked his gaze meaningfully to the bedroom door, then back at Erwin. Clasping one of Erwin’s hands in both of his, he walked first and led the blond man behind. Neither of them reached for the light switch as they went into the room, leaving it dimly lit only by the kitchen light outside.

The whole thing felt like a dream to Erwin, his eyes fixed on Levi as he walked, but when they reached the bed he stopped and pulled the shorter man closer to him, leaning down and kissing him once again. His thick arms wrapped tightly around the firm, lithe body that he had spent so much time admiring from afar. He felt Levi’s hand curl into the fabric of his jumper, scrunching it lightly in his hands, while his own roamed their way up and down Levi’s back. His hand came to rest in the soft little strands of hair that made up Levi’s undercut and he stroked there and all down the back of his neck, enjoying the warmth of his skin. Then he felt Levi release the grip on his jumper and push on his shoulders, steering him towards the bed. Within seconds Erwin found himself sitting on the edge, the mattress sagging under his weight. As Levi nudged his knees apart so he could stand there between them, Erwin stared up into his dark eyes.

“Fuck, I want you,” Levi whispered, leaning down until their foreheads were touching. His fingertips traced lines through Erwin’s hair, feeling the light flow of it sliding through his hands.

_“Believe_ me, I want you too,” Erwin replied as his own hands did an eager sweep down Levi’s chest. Finding the hem of his partner’s jumper, he lifted it upwards, exposing a stomach etched with tufts of dark hair. It was enough to set his heart racing, and his voice was hoarse with desire as he spoke again. “Get this out of my way.”

Levi lifted up his arms in silent permission, and within a moment the soft knitted fabric was gone. As soon as it was he slipped his own hands underneath Erwin’s jumper, sneaking beneath it to grab at every available inch of skin. He leaned down, lips brushing Erwin's ear, blond hair tickling his lips as he whispered.

“And now you're making out with a convicted criminal.”

Erwin couldn’t help but laugh, a low rumbling sound.

“And you're making out with the chief of police,” he retorted. Before Levi could respond Erwin’s hands began their exploration of his skin, wandering across his chest. Already he was aching for more, but he resisted the temptation, eager to take his time. This felt so long coming that it seemed a waste not to enjoy every moment properly.

Levi made a sound of appreciation low in his throat and then his hands came to rest on the cop’s knees. He leaned over Erwin, who took the opportunity to kiss and nuzzle at his neck. The touch was soft and gentle, and only enhanced the tingling feeling in Levi that wouldn’t subside. Something about him being the _chief of police_ made it feel extra forbidden, and Levi had already been thinking about this for weeks, so he decided to act boldly.

With a playful shove against Erwin’s chest, the blond fell back against the bed, his feet dangling slightly off the floor. Then Levi climbed up on his hips, straddling him at the waist and looked down with mischievous eyes as he grasped the hem of Erwin's shirt.

“Your turn.” 

Erwin sighed in pleasure at the sight of Levi there on top of him. Obliging, he raised his arms to allow Levi to slide him out of the jumper. Once free of it he pulled his partner down on top on him again, kissing him deeply. The feeling of having Levi tight against him like that made it impossible to resist grinding their hips together, and the moan that Erwin made was deep and longing. His trousers were growing uncomfortably tight, and he began to surrender completely to his need.

Giving Levi plenty of time to stop or slow him, Erwin slowly brought his hands down and fumbled for the fastening of partner’s jeans. He bit his lower lip when the smooth, tight button refused to budge, laughing nervously, but Levi just looked amused and batted his hands away, finally taking pity on him.

Better than any fantasy he’d ever had, Erwin watched as Levi leaned back and very slowly pushed the button with his thumb before sliding the zip down, intentionally teasing. Then he clambered back, standing beside the bed and shuffling out of his jeans completely. It had been a long time since he’d been naked in front of anyone, but he’d already been so vulnerable with Erwin that this felt effortless in comparison.

When Levi reached out next for the waistband of Erwin's joggers his hands were hesitant, and he looked up and made eye contact to silently ask permission.

At first Erwin didn’t respond. He was too busy admiring the sight that was now on display for him. Levi looked firm, like there was a strength in him that could be overlooked by his slim build, and his skin was pale, broken only by swirls of thick, black hair in places that drove Erwin crazy. He followed the line of it down his stomach, all the way to his rapidly hardening cock.

Finally he realised Levi was waiting for an answer, and nodded. “Yes,” he said breathlessly. “I want you...”

Despite his words, Erwin felt an anxious fluttering in his chest, thinking about the soft edges that had appeared over the years, hoping Levi wasn’t expecting some perfectly toned gym body. Once he was free of the joggers and they lay discarded on the carpet, he realised those fears had been unfounded; Levi was staring at him with a lustful look in his eyes.

“Fuck, Erwin,” he groaned. “Wish I’d known you looked this good.”

Spurred on by this, Erwin sat up and took hold of Levi’s hand to draw him closer. Once the man was within reach, Erwin pressed his lips to his stomach, kissing and nipping, worshipping Levi with his touches.

Levi rested his hands on Erwin’s broad shoulders to keep himself steady, revelling in the attention that was being lavished upon him. In his mind the blond looked like some kind of old sculpture or artist's model, sitting naked on the edge of the bed like that, and he could hardly believe his luck that someone like Erwin was interested in someone like him. He dipped down to stroke his fingertips up along one broad thigh, teasing at light curls until he felt Erwin shiver beneath him.

“You want something?” he asked in a hushed tone, and finally brought his hand up to the length of Erwin’s cock, stroking very slowly with his long fingers. Feeling Erwin practically melt under his touch, moaning and bucking his hips, was thrilling. The cop seemed raptured for a while, but before too long he reached up and caught hold of Levi’s wrist, bringing him to a stop. There was a question in his eyes that made it clear, even before he spoke, that this warm hand wasn’t all he wanted from tonight.

“I want to come inside you.”

It was a risk. Erwin didn’t know if Levi would consent. He wasn’t going to risk missing out though, and he felt sure his partner was blunt and honest enough to tell him if he didn’t want it. Luckily Levi looked pleased by the idea, the slightest smirk appearing on his face.

“Get me ready then,” he answered. Erwin didn’t need to be told twice. He pulled Levi onto his lap, positioning one knee on either side of him and holding his new lover steady there. He cupped his backside with one hand while the other slipped between his cheeks. He felt Levi tense up, gripping hard on his shoulders, so was careful to be gentle, easing him into it. He drew that finger back and forth a few times before adding a second.

“Shit, Erwin,” Levi gasped.

“What is it?” Erwin asked, hesitating. “I can stop-“

_“No.”_

Levi didn’t want to admit he’d never had this level of care and attention before from any one of his minimal number of lovers. Erwin was treating him like someone worth a damn, whose comfort and pleasure was of the utmost importance. It was a disconcerting feeling, but not a bad one. His hands found a home in Erwin’s hair which he gripped hold of and pulled gently, until Erwin’s fingers withdrew.

“Ready?” the chief murmured, nuzzling his neck again, dropping longing kisses onto it. He wanted him. This man who had been the key to his plans was so much more than that to him now, and the desire he was feeling extended far beyond his own gratification.

Seeing Levi nod, Erwin turned and placed him down on the bed, the clean cotton sheets rustling as they shifted and Erwin leaned over, finding the perfect position for him to slide his cock inside Levi.

“Fuck yes,” Levi hissed, feeling the press of Erwin against him. Their eyes were locked as Erwin groaned obscenely and Levi watched his body tremble in pleasure. The cop seemed to be going slowly though, and in truth was on alert for any sign that his partner was uncomfortable or in pain. But Levi just wrapped his legs around Erwin’s hips and gripped tight on his forearms, wearing a blissed out look on his face.

In an ideal situation, Erwin would have spent hours making love to Levi like this. He would have drawn it out and been deliberately teasing, but it had been so long since he’d shared his bed that after only a few thrusts of his hips he could feel the build of his climax. For a split second he slowed down, considering putting a halt on it, but Levi tutted and kicked his ass with the ball of his foot.

“Don’t you dare hold back,” he warned in a low voice. _“Come_ for me, Chief.”

Any chance Erwin had of making this last evaporated with those words. He came quickly, moaning Levi’s name, hips thrusting over and over to extract every bit of pleasure. As he finally came to a stop, breathless and panting, he stared down at Levi underneath him. The look that the dark haired man wore was practically triumphant, and Erwin smiled, half amused and half sheepish. Levi treated everything in such a straightforward way that there was no room for awkwardness between them.

“Now then,” Erwin said firmly, his eyes trailing now to Levi’s still fully erect cock. He pulled out of his partner and leaned down to give him a kiss that was full of unspoken appreciation. Then he rested his forehead against his. “What do you need?” Levi’s eyes were heavy-lidded as he looked back at Erwin.

“That mouth,” he replied, reaching up with one hand to stroke Erwin’s face. “Wrapped around my dick.”

“A- ah.”

Erwin could look strangely innocent for a grown man who was far from it, and for a moment Levi thought he might have pushed it too far with his lewd way of speaking. He wouldn’t have said the cop was _shy_ but he did have sensibilities that Levi didn’t share, and there was an earnest kind of vulnerability to him. But what Levi mistook for hesitation turned out to be nothing more than a pause for thought, as Erwin slid down off the foot of the bed and got to his knees. He beckoned Levi towards him, but the shorter man rolled his eyes and threw a pillow at his head.

“Knees,” he said, and waited until Erwin had retrieved the soft pad and placed it under him before he shuffled to the edge of the bed to join him. He played with Erwin’s rich blond hair, watching the man’s head bent over his cock, mouth open. His tongue licked the tip just once, like he was testing him, and Levi shuddered.

The idea that he was about to get a blowjob from a cop was, frankly, ridiculous. And yet here he was, getting his cock sucked by the _chief_ no less. It was hot as hell, but it was more than that. This man wasn’t _just_ the chief of police. He was _Erwin._

Levi felt a million swirling thoughts jostling for his attention. They were pushed aside and forgotten as Erwin chose that moment to slip the tip of Levi’s shaft into his mouth. Levi groaned, his grip tightening in Erwin’s hair, feeling the wet warmth of his throat enveloping more and more of him, with Erwin’s hand wrapping around what was left, so no part of him was neglected.

“Shit, Erwin,” Levi moaned. He watched Erwin’s gaze turn upwards, those big blue eyes fixing on his, as he began to work his tongue. He slid his lips up and down, working Levi into a frenzy, not letting up for a moment. Before too long Levi was racing towards his climax, tugging hard on Erwin’s hair.

“Close,” he groaned urgently, wanting to give Erwin the chance to pull back. But Erwin didn’t even hesitate, taking Levi all the way through and swallowing down almost every drop he had to offer. The little drip that did escape him slid down his chin, but before he could wipe it away Levi leaned down and flicked it with one swipe of his tongue.

Now entirely spent, Erwin sat back on his heels. He reached up and ran his fingers along Levi’s jawline, enjoying the severe slope down to his chin, admiring this man. There was so much he wanted to say and no way he could say it to him now. So he just smiled and got to his feet, pulling his boxers back on and watching out of the corner of his eye as Levi followed suit.

They climbed into bed side by side, curled up under the duvet and the air was comfortable in silence as Erwin ran his hand through Levi’s hair, though he was trying to decide on the best thing to say to round off the night; he was asleep before he managed to say a single word.


	52. Setting Sun (17th September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin gets back to work, dealing with Kenny and his spy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year, and thank you for your patience ❤️ We promise this fic will end in 2021 and not drag on indefinitely.

A distant, echoing sound gently roused Levi from his sleep. He lazily rolled over only to find empty space at his side. That was enough of a surprise to jolt him awake; Erwin had never woken up before him during the nights they had innocently shared a bed, but this had been much more intimate. He’d fallen asleep with Erwin’s chest to his back, and woken up during the night to find that they had rolled over and now he was the one wrapped around Erwin instead.

Now half of the bed was growing cold. He sat upright, body-warmed blankets pooling around his waist, and realised that it was Erwin’s voice which had woken him up. It was muffled by the distance but he wasn’t too far.

Judging by the presence of one voice only, Levi was 99% sure he was on the phone, but he still threw on yesterday’s clothes as quickly as possible. The last thing he needed was to open the door half-naked and find Hanji or Mike there.

Luckily it was confirmed when he opened the bedroom door and Erwin swung an arm over the back of the sofa, phone pressed to his ear. His expression was soft, and he mouthed a smiling ‘hello’, so Levi raised a hand in response. Erwin continued to smile at him, then stumbled over his words.

“Uh, sorry, Mike, you broke up there-- can you say that again?”

Levi ducked his head down and smiled to himself. There was something heartwarming about the fact that even his sleepy self could capture Erwin’s attention enough to distract him, albeit momentarily.

He grabbed the bag he’d brought back from the prison and headed straight for the shower, still hazily reminiscing on last night. The heat of the water made him feel more alert, but it still seemed somehow unreal that this was his life; he had long ago given up on the idea of growing attached to anyone again. In such a short space of time, every aspect of his life had been rewritten. He felt as if he could wake up at any moment in Kenny’s house, his lonely clean bedroom surrounded by grime and noise.

Dressed in clean clothes, damp strands of hair trailing down his forehead and pale autumn sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, he felt better already. His own reflection, framed by steamy mist on the bathroom mirror, looked more spirited. He was wearing Erwin’s birthday gift, the creamy white sweater, and the light colour did a lot to take the edge off his extreme features, softening the chiaroscuro of dark eye circles and pale skin. Perhaps it was the extra hours of sleep, or just a placebo, but he looked different in his own eyes… more alive.

Unlocking the bathroom door, he saw Erwin’s back in the kitchen, the tinging sound giving away that he was in the midst of stirring Levi’s tea and his own coffee. A flimsy vest hung off him and Levi could see a peek of his ankles just below the cotton blue pyjama trousers that were clearly too short. The lack of length wasn’t helped by how wrinkled they were, scrunched at the knees; clearly Erwin wasn’t the type to devote time to ironing sleepwear.

When the blond turned, he flinched for a second.

“I didn’t know you were there,” he laughed breathlessly, quickly setting down the mugs. Then, in a few short steps, he had crossed the kitchen to wrap his arms about Levi’s small frame, leaning down to rest chin to forehead.

Levi tiptoed into the embrace, although Erwin’s bare shoulders were chill in a way that contrasted his own skin, steamed by the shower.

“You’re cold,” he murmured.

Erwin pulled back, rubbing his hands together, seeing a slight bluish mottling on his skin, as if he hadn’t noticed until it was pointed out. “Ah. Mike called so suddenly that I didn’t have time to change…”

He padded barefoot towards the bedroom, unhooking his bathrobe from the door, speaking as he slipped his arms into the fuzzy sleeves. “I didn’t want to wake you. Such a novelty to catch you sleeping…”

“Shut up.” Levi mumbled sheepishly. When Erwin settled on the sofa with his coffee, Levi swept his damp hair back, then nestled in beside him. Erwin was clasping his mug in his hands as Levi often did, absorbing its heat.

Levi reached up, fingertips drifting over the tiny little stubble on Erwin’s chin. It wasn’t much, but just enough to make him resemble his father more than ever, who had facial hair in every one of the photos dotted around.

Erwin scrunched his eyes into a smile at the tickling of those fingers. His long navy sleeves reached far up to his wrists, and he looked as unusual in dark colours as Levi did in light.

“Do you have to work today?” Levi asked softly.

The blond made a groan of indecision. “Not technically, but I should go in and tie up some loose ends. I’d rather not deal with anyone today, but...”

It was an unlikely response from Erwin, who was much more sociable than his reserved companion, and usually passionate about his work. But now his tone sounded apologetic, so Levi caressed his thigh reassuringly.

“It’ll give me time to clean this shit.”

“Don’t push yourself.”

A brief comfortable silence followed, then Erwin softly whispered over his cup. “Hmm, Jamaica Blue.”

Levi wouldn’t have known what he meant if Erwin hadn’t been so absorbed in his coffee, eyes closed as he breathed over his mug, steam lilting away from his lips. Jamaica Blue was the expensive blend that Erwin rarely used. The behaviour was unusual too; while Levi usually took his time with a cup of tea, Erwin had a bad habit of downing his coffee like a shot, sinking the caffeine out of pure practicality.

He leaned into the blond’s shoulder, and Erwin made space for him to nestle closer. It was such a small thing. They were probably just picking up each other’s habits.

So why did he feel a prickling sense of danger?

\------------------------------------------

Before even reaching the station, Erwin parked his car outside a small cafe. He’d agreed to meet Mike, since they had much to discuss that they couldn’t afford to be overheard. Arriving early, Erwin stayed in the driver’s seat, texting Levi. It was a luxury to be in contact with him, now that he could have his phone again.

_Sorry, there is much more to do here than I expected._ :( _I’ll be home by 10:30pm._

He hoped that was an accurate estimate. More than ever, he hated the idea of Levi milling around the house alone, and was about to send another message when a dull thud on the window caught his attention.

Erwin’s phone fell into his lap in sheer surprise, but when he looked, he saw Mike looming down. The man was already frowning quizzically at the overreaction and commented as soon as the door opened.

“Someone’s got the jitters.”

The chief sighed. “A big lump like you towering over my car, who wouldn’t jump?”

As they entered the cafe, Erwin took note of all the little changes that had come in. Somewhere over the years it had adopted an industrial chic look, with exposed hanging lightbulbs, corrugated iron ceilings and steel piping everywhere. It was a far cry from the basic cafe it had once been.

“Brings back memories.” Mike was scanning the place too.

They had once visited this place regularly, because it was five minutes away from Mike’s old bachelor pad, and Erwin had practically moved in after his own personal tragedy and the burial of his father. Then Erwin got his remote little place further out of the city, while Mike got serious with Nanaba and moved further in, to a leafy suburb that better suited family life.

Once they settled, Erwin cut sharply to the point of this secretive meeting.

“Kenny Ackerman’s spy is Annie Leonhart.”

Mike stared at him through heavy-lidded eyes, as if he was trying to fit this new information into his worldview. Erwin had hinted at his methods of deduction over the phone, and suggested that he had a name, but he was unwilling to say it aloud except in person.

“You’re sure?”

The chief nodded. He was fully prepared to explain himself and present all his evidence, but Mike did not push further.

“Then what now?”

“I want her suspended immediately, pending investigation.” Erwin predicted that Mike would expect Annie to be fired, but that would all take too long. He couldn’t afford the delay that an appeal would grant to her. He needed to suddenly take her out of the game, even if it was temporary.

“What’s she getting out of helping Ackerman?” Mike was asking a question that had plagued Erwin half to death since he uncovered all this, arms folded over his broad chest as he rubbed absent-mindedly at his stubbled chin.

“I’ve no idea.” The chief looked at him over interlocked fingers. He’d barely had any conversation with Annie, but it was hard to believe any professional would choose to consort with a gang like that.

“The obvious suspects remain bribery and blackmail.” In the absence of definite answers he tried to console himself with probabilities, but it wasn’t enough. Stirring his tall latte glass absent-mindedly, he murmured to himself.

“I... really… wish I could find out what motivated her…”

Then he plucked himself out of his reverie, looking at Mike properly, fully resigned to never knowing.

“I want her out so I can pin Kenny on the Jinn and Johnson cases without anything going awry.”

The deputy gave him a large thumbs-up, and Erwin nodded gratefully, knowing it was as good as done.

“What about the Ackermans?”

Erwin had been so absorbed in telling Mike about Annie, that he’d forgotten the whole police force still thought Levi was back with Kenny. 

“I’ll release the evidence as soon as Leonhart is gone. And then Kenny can be arrested with no repercussions.”

_“None?”_ Mike looked incredulous. The chief had spent all this time protecting Levi, and was always far ahead of everyone in predicting Kenny's movements. Surely he knew that Kenny would be suspicious once his spy was fired, and turn his sights on his nephew. “At least warn Levi to skip town before I suspend Leonhart.”

“That… that won’t be necessary.” Erwin’s voice turned sheepish, and that’s when his deputy knew there were more layers than he’d even guessed. He gave Erwin the silent shakedown until the answers came tumbling out.

“I know that Leonhart will report back to Kenny and put him on high alert. But Levi is with me again. He's out of his uncle's reach.”

Mike folded his arms over his broad chest, tapping his fingers on his own bicep with the hint of a smirk. "You, uh… you missed getting cosy with criminals, Chief?"

To Mike’s surprise, his light teasing made Erwin quail. He was completely unaware of the memories he conjured in Erwin’s mind, all from last night; the sweet kisses, the deep kisses, Levi’s breathless voice, the warmth of holding a person in his arms…

"I'm fond of Levi," he said, opting for simplicity. He could already imagine all the cautions Mike wanted to give him as his friend sighed heavily.

And Mike could tell that Levi was nowhere near as ill-intentioned as Kenny. He could even spare some sympathy for the terrible start he'd been given in life. But sympathy was one thing, and entrusting his friend to that type of person was another. Erwin was smart, sometimes too smart, but he was reckless, and not always worldwise.

"He's not a murderer, but he's..." Mike held his hands up. The gaps filled themselves in. Erwin had seen Sannes' and Dachtler's injuries, as well as those of the other victims; they may have retracted their statements once Kenny cut their drug supply, but it was obvious that they were injured at Levi's hands.

"I'm aware of what he is," Erwin replied just a little more sharply than he had intended. Mike wondered if he had forgotten that Levi had threatened him with a knife just for entering the apartment.

"You're playing with fire." He’d never had any luck as Erwin's wingman, finding him utterly disinterested in every good eligible bachelor or bachelorette, but now he wished he'd succeeded. "There's got to be a short, dark, aggressive dude out there without a criminal record."

Erwin didn't intend to get into a deep discussion about his feelings, but he couldn't help just adding another point. "I've never felt as comfortable with anyone else as I have with Levi. Haven't you tried hard enough to set me up to realise that I'm picky?"

Conceding that point, Mike decided he wasn't going to fight Erwin over it, but it was a regretful situation in his eyes. He wished that Erwin would just find a nice, ordinary guy and settle down, not get mired with a criminal. For all either of them knew, Levi solved every problem with his fists.

"And how does he act... around you?" He raised an eyebrow, pulling a sceptical expression.

"He... acts quite normal," Erwin replied, frowning. He had no intention of revealing everything, but Mike's tone was unnerving. "He's actually a great houseguest. He cleans, he cooks, he's quiet but interesting when he does speak. What exactly are you asking me?" He felt like he was being gently questioned the way he would usually speak to a domestic victim.

Mike shrugged, scrutinising the minute clues in Erwin’s expression with little success. "Just hard to imagine him being comfortable around an officer. He can't be the biggest fan of law enforcement."

"He isn't," said Erwin, and he couldn't help a chuckle. "But with good reason - it isn't as if our force has always been particularly thorough or competent.”

Mike threw Erwin an incredulous look. "With good reason?" he repeated. It sounded like Erwin was blaming the police for being at odds with Levi rather than the other way around. If the man didn't want to clash with law enforcement, he shouldn't go getting GBH charges.

“Well… he's fine with me. I wouldn't say friendly-" That idea was almost laughable. "-But he's not hostile.”

“To _you_.” Again, Mike recalled the knife at his throat, and Erwin could guess where his friend’s mind was.

“Mike, he hates his uncle as much as we do.” The chief’s voice was imploring now. “Levi is a victim too, just in a different way."

The deputy just shook his head. "You'll do what you want, Erwin. But be careful."

Erwin's gaze turned steely. He knew Mike had his best interests at heart and he could honestly say that he understood his concerns, might even have shared them if he had been standing in Mike's shoes. But he really needed his friend on side with this. If all went to plan, Levi’s last family member was going to be behind bars soon enough, and he would find it hard to make his way in the world with nobody else. Mike had always guided Erwin, and he wanted Levi to have the same.

Mike had to silently confess that he had never seen his friend talk so plainly about another person before. Even when he had dated people, he seemed so uninvested. Why did it have to be a violent criminal of all people who finally brought this out of him? He almost laughed at the insanity of it.

"If I'd known you wanted a bad boy, I'd have looked for one. You high schooler."

Erwin looked bashful again, knowing Mike had no idea how far his relationship had progressed, even in the last 24 hours.

"I will be cautious. And I appreciate you looking out for me.” His tone turned sombre as he continued. 

“You’ve been a steadfast friend.” His game of cat-and-mouse with Kenny had been marginally less lonely over the years for the presence of his best friend, and yet he’d still investigated his own deputy as if he might be the spy. For all his risks he had trusted nobody, a solitary life.

“That came out of nowhere,” Mike observed, puzzled by Erwin’s behaviour today.

“Well…” The chief looked down in thought for a long time, eyes cast down, lashes laid to rest above pale cheekbones. Slowly he continued. “I should say so while I have the chance. And I wondered… if you had reconsidered taking a position as chief.”

Now Mike looked suspicious, eyes narrowing. “Why would I need to do a thing like that when we’ve got you?”

“Because… I don’t know if I much care to go on, once Kenny is out of the way. I’m nowhere near retirement, but… I’m tired of playing Russian roulette.”

The chief looked up, and now he _did_ look tired, gaunt circles beneath his eyes, his blue eyes faded, and a lifeless expression upon his face. He resembled the young man Mike remembered, but veiled by mourning, with the shadows of loss and exhaustion cast heavy upon him.

“Every chief has an expiration date,” he said, smiling softly beneath the grey. “I can’t think of better hands to leave the station in, once I’ve departed.”

Mike wasn’t fond of the idea, or of Erwin retiring at all, but he decided there was no urgency and gave a noncommittal response. He wondered if he was imagining the concern in his friend’s eyes for a split second before the curtain fell and he was a closed book once more.


	53. Counterattack (17-19th September 2019)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erwin has to work overtime at the station, and Levi doesn't know why.

Following his Tuesday afternoon catch-up with Mike, Erwin really did have a busy day. He could finally set his sights on casework for Jinn and Johnson without fear of interference. Since he had offered spaces on the investigation to Petra, Oluo and Jean, and they were now all proven innocent, he decided to keep his promise and make them his team. Then, there were plenty of unrelated loose ends to tie up, many of which had been neglected due to Kenny’s cases absorbing his time.

Lastly, he was speaking to a colleague of Hanji’s from her university days, a doctor who had supervised methadone programs for heroin addicts in private rehab clinics. It was going to be expensive, and he’d need permission from the Commissioner to run it at public cost. Unfortunately for him, ‘Commissioner’ was exactly the paper-pushing position that Shadis had taken when he quit as chief. It seemed Erwin was trapped in a cycle of constantly depending on his permission. He didn’t think it was likely he would get any more from him than he had as a junior officer.

Besides, he didn’t know how to get hold of all Kenny’s buyers. If the police put out a statement requesting heroin addicts come and see them, it was laughable to imagine they’d actually turn up. In previous opioid drug busts, their lab work had shown that it was cut with things like detergent, powdered milk or baking powder, so it was pretty easy to forge. That meant that all kinds of opportunists could start selling anything on the streets, making money off an entire group of desperate people. This might be the one problem he hadn’t yet solved; even if he could get the methadone substitute, and safely help these people quit their habit, he had no idea how to find out who needed them. Levi said he had never seen any tracking system of Kenny’s buyers or his illicit finances. Erwin knew it couldn’t be at their houses; Kenny left Levi alone there all the time, so he wasn’t hiding much.

He pressed his fingers to his temples, exhaling slowly. This tangle was exhausting. One way or another, he didn’t intend to be chief of police by the end of the year. He gazed at the lonely nail on the wall, a visual focal point opposite his desk that always drew his eye during his deep thinking. Shadis had once kept a photo of himself and his wife there, and he knew for a fact that Nile had a family portrait with Marie and his daughters on his desk. What did Erwin have? A bent, rusty nail sticking out of the wall. He couldn’t help but think it was a sad indictment of his life.

If only he had met Levi earlier, he might have done something to rectify the situation.

He could tell Mike was reluctant to take over command of the station, and he was instinctively weighing up alternatives. Petra, Oluo and Gelgar were among his longest-serving detectives. Rico, like Mike, had been here longer than him, but when Shadis’ vacancy came up she hadn’t even applied. He decided to add her to his list of references to write, just in case she’d had a change of heart since then. Any of them would make a good, solid successor.

After many hours of typing with the autumn sunlight warming his back through his stiff uniform shirt, he stood up to stretch. Suddenly noticing the time, he made his way to the kitchen for coffee. It was an old habit; soon after becoming chief, he realised how newly secluded he was. His office was closed off from theirs, and he had no desk in the communal workspace. After a few months’ in his new command role, he had asked a new employee how their first week went, only to realise they had started two months ago. Recalling that conversation was embarrassing enough to make him cringe even now, and he’d immediately implemented new habits, lest he become that detached and unapproachable figure that Shadis had been to him.

Now he always made a coffee whenever each major shift started or ended, an excuse to wave and chat to his staff as they came in or out. It had been more of a duty than a pleasure when he had been instinctively investigating them, masking his suspicions behind a friendly facade, secretly trying to deduce who the spy was. With Annie on suspension, that was no longer necessary.

None of the staff acted strangely, secretaries putting jackets on and leaving in small clusters, the PCSO car pool group all filing out in a row… their ordinary behaviour led him to believe that no rumours had yet started about Annie’s suspension. Gossip took its time to work up from the evidence floors to the main floor anyway, and for now, everyone probably thought it was a sick day. Within the next few days, he might have to confront that issue - or, if he was unlucky, Mike would.

“See you, Chief.” 

Erwin looked up from stirring his coffee. Jean was casually leaning around the kitchen doorframe, making a little playful finger-gun at him. He seemed cheerful at the prospect of his first big case starting in a day.

“Bright and early, Kirstein. We’re going to nail this case.”

With a grin and, if possible, even more swagger in his step, the young cop left. Erwin washed the small lunchbox in which Levi had given him his leftovers today, and waved to Oluo and Petra as they left. _Always together,_ he noted, wondering if every other officer around had managed to balance work and home better than him.

As he made his way back to his desk, he crossed paths with Mike. He wasn’t used to seeing him here so late. Normally he took the early shift and left in time for the school run, so his deputy was probably feeling some kind of jet lag.

“I’m grateful for this,” he said lowly as they passed, each slowing their step.

“Don’t know how you burn the candle at both ends like this.” Mike sniffed haughtily, then blinked and leaned in towards Erwin’s coffee cup.

“Oh. That’s how.”

Erwin pulled back his hand defensively, frowning up at his friend. He knew Mike thought that sweetened coffee was sacrilege, but he needed both the sugar and caffeine today so he changed the subject.

“I promise this will last a few days at most. Give my apologies to Nanaba for keeping you for so many hours.”

Mike looked concerned for a second, but then his moustache twitched, betraying his amusement. “Give mine to Levi,” he said quietly.

“Okay, that’s enough of that. Back to work, Zacharias.” Erwin feigned a grumpy look and shoved his friend’s shoulder. Naturally it didn’t work. Pushing Mike was like trying to pull a tree out of the ground using his bare hands.

“Enjoy your cup of syrup,” his deputy called over his shoulder as Erwin left, shaking his head.

Erwin drove home late that night, slowly making his way down the lonely road out to his quiet little apartment in the outskirts, no other cars in the vicinity. Most other roads were empty too, looking liquid black and more like rivers than tarmac in the darkness. The streetlamps grew further and further apart as he left the city and joined the main road instead, nothing but thick forest either side of it.

By the time he got home he was stiff with all the tension. He looked up at his apartment building, looming ominously over him. _One day down. _

\------------------------------------------

“What do you _mean_ you have to be in early?”

Levi had settled for making Erwin some sandwiches rather than cooking, since it was already so late. He stopped with knife in hand, turning to face the blond. “You can’t get home at 11pm and be back in at 8:30. That’s fucking stupid.”

He was met with an apologetic look and the calm, reasoned tones of a man who had rehearsed a formal rite.

“It’s just for a few days. There’s so much to do; my case team for Jinn and Johnson work normal hours, but Mike works late, so I have to cover both.”

Levi gave him a scrutinising look, scanning for errors. He couldn’t pin down why he suspected Erwin was lying, only that a gut feeling said so.

“And after a few days? Will you take some time off so you don’t burn out?”

“Afterwards…?” Erwin stared vacantly at the ceiling, as if he hadn’t even thought about that. Then he smiled down at Levi.

“Yeah. I will.”

He pulled Levi into a hug, so sudden that the other man had to quickly set the knife down to avoid smudging Erwin’s uniform with butter. He was squeezed tight, Erwin all but bending in half so he could nuzzle Levi’s neck. 

“Oi, oi…” Levi patted his shoulder gingerly after being constricted for too long. “One long shift and you miss me this much?”

\------------------------------------------

The next night was much the same. Erwin came home and gripped him as if he’d never seen him before. It wasn’t until they were laid up in bed, facing each other, hands clasped on the pillow between them, that Levi dared ask the question.

“What’s going on at work?”

Erwin’s eyes were closed, his chest barely moving, pale hair strewn on the pillow. A couple of his shirt buttons were undone, exposing his throat and making him look almost vulnerable. Levi blinked and for a second, he envisioned a long past memory, an inverted scene of the present. His mother, head on the pillow, dark hair fanned out at her side, dark eyes shut for the last time.

It was as if he could feel the phone clutched in his hand, tiny fingers twirling in the twisted cord, hear the ambulance responder assuring him that help was coming, and his own questions in a child’s voice. _Mama? Mama? Ma-_

“Erwin!” he snapped suddenly. Something was going on, and he didn’t know why these long undisturbed memories were suddenly resurfacing.

Blue eyes blinked open, and Erwin mumbled an apology. “Sorry… I was half-asleep.”

Levi didn’t know whether to believe him. His voice remained sharp.

“What’s going on.” It was a demand, not a question, but Erwin set a hand on his head, pulling him into his chest. The sound of his heartbeat surprised Levi, low and steady.

“Nothing. Except the usual,” he said, voice deep and words slow. “Kenny’s a big task. But I promise that this is the home stretch.”

There was a dark cloud creeping in Levi’s mind. He was so unconvinced by Erwin’s assurances, reasonable though they might be. Even if he was being honest, Levi sensed something else on the horizon.

“Take the weekend off,” he requested. It was only Wednesday, so Erwin could work two more days of his insanely long shift, then take a break. Levi thought that was a fair compromise.

After a long pause, Erwin whispered against his hair. “Alright. It’s a deal.”

Levi uneasily settled into Erwin’s arms, but still only managed to fall into a half-sleep. Feeling his body go limp and his breathing slow, Erwin blinked as quick as he could, but couldn’t stop one small tear landing in Levi’s hair, sparkling like a diamond against the blackness.

\------------------------------------------

Thursday evening. A man on a deserted road lugged a heavy, closed satchel out of the trunk of his car. Upon opening it, he set up a tripod, then unsheathed a sniper rifle from a long, narrow zip bag. A telescope was laid nearby with an astronomy book; a perfect excuse in case anyone happened upon him. No one would think twice about some old fellow doing a bit of stargazing in this quiet little spot outside town. And Sannes was very, very good at lying to authorities.

He’d done some patrolling to scope out the area and found the perfect base of operations. The road was close, and he could hear the treads of a car every now and again. Could see them too, clear as crystal, once he'd set the sniper rifle up in cover of a thick bush. He followed each car with the sight, easily able to read their licence plates in the glow of the street lights. His tranquilizers were doing the trick, and even after the sun set and the cold of the night set in, his hands remained steady and sure. He stationed himself on the floor, blanket over his back, settling in for however long it took.

As the hours ticked by, fewer cars came along, just like he expected after gathering intel for a few days prior. Periodically he checked his watch and adjusted his position when his arms or shoulders became stiff. He wasn’t as young as he used to be, but he was being paid extra for his patience on this one.

There had been about a 30 minute ceasefire with zero interruptions until finally another car came by. He suspected it was the one he’d been awaiting and was shortly proven correct; his reconnaissance had worked. He’d found out the target’s routine, taken note of his licence plate, make, model and car colour, and he came along right at 22:20, driving at a steady 57mph. At that pace, with this amount of preparation, it would be a quick and easy dispatch. His forward planning had done most of the work. All that remained was one flick of his finger… one simple movement to eliminate him.

His unfaltering gaze waited for the marked car to come into sight, and he followed his plan with precision. One long breath in, one long breath out, like a thin puff of smoke disappearing into the air around him. He pulled down on the trigger and sent the hollow point bullet hurtling towards the tyre of the car.

The crack, as always, was deafening. It wasn't the bullet leaving the chamber but the impact when it hit. Even at his distance, he heard the shriek of the tyres, followed by the crunching of metal and the chiming of glass pieces raining onto the road.

Once he was off the field then the police would stand no chance of connecting him to this operation, but he had a mission to complete. People survived car crashes all the time. It was his job to make sure that this one didn't.

Now he switched personas, quickly zipping the rifle back into its bag and stowing it inside a hollow gap drilled beneath the car seats, where it wouldn’t be easily found. He left the telescope and book behind now that they had discharged their service, replacing them with a dog leash instead. There was no need to pretend to be a stargazer unless someone saw the tripod. His new role was as an elderly gentleman looking for his dog in the forest, after it had been spooked by the sound of that _terrible_ accident.

The leash was the same ligature that had killed Franz Arlert 12 years ago. By sheer luck, the rough weave with its raised ridges was just enough to make marks look almost like ordinary skin mottling after death, just enough to cause doubt.

There was a reason Kenny paid Sannes so well.

He crept through the undergrowth, camouflaged by the thick leafy trees. The acrid smell of smoke hit him before the visuals, but slowly the results of his work came into his sights. The crumpled car had careened straight into a barrier, and a blond head was laid against the steering wheel. He wasn't close enough to see any more detail, but the roads were empty, which would give him time to climb the blockade that separated the motorway from the thicket in which he was currently taking refuge. There was every chance his target was dead, but chance wasn’t enough.

He began to climb the embankment but only managed to set one foot on the road before he picked up a sound. Suddenly realising it was the low engine of another car in the distance, he retreated quickly into the forest again, back pressed against the trunk of a tree for cover, with his leash gripped tight in hand.

An ordinary looking red family car came by, slowing as they viewed the wreckage. Sannes distinctly heard a voice as the car door opened and a man hurried towards the crash site.

"Oh shit -- _shit!"_

He leaned out to assess his situation. It was a man’s voice and a man’s figure, tall and broad, apparently alone. Sannes didn't want to kill two if he didn't have to. He was subconsciously wringing the leash in his hands. Choking out an unconscious victim was easy, but not a big, strong, healthy passer-by.

He spared another glance. The man was much taller than him. He couldn’t take him in a fight. In fact he stood no chance of getting rid of him unless he went back to the car for his gun...

While he was weighing up his strategy, the stranger began to speak.

"A-ambulance," he was stuttering. "There's been a car accident."

“Ambulance!” he repeated louder, then scoffed angrily. “My signal is bad. Say again?”

A pause. "No, no, don't know him, I'm going southbound past Longsight and just saw it. It's... one man. Oh god, he looks... he looks really bad."

Sannes’ breath hitched and he hid again as the man started looking around. Luckily he was shouting everything clearly for the benefit of his first responder, so he could listen in.

"Near the roadsign that heads off to the A6. Be quick, he looks... there's blood everywhere." Another pause. The man must be taking instructions from his emergency operator. "I’m not sure. He's still bleeding."

Damn this good Samaritan to hell! Sannes was just contemplating how to get rid of another body if he had to shoot this stranger, when the man started talking again. "Okay... I'm moving him. I'm moving him. He's... his eyes are open. Oh god, there's glass. In him. His neck is bleeding."

The sniper's ears pricked up. That was a good sign for him at least.

"No. Can't feel a pulse." Silence. "They're cold." Silence. "No, no response. Still no pulse. ... Alright... I'll stay."

Sannes waited as the call apparently ended and the man fell silent. He suspected his job was done, despite the interfering factor.

As he was thinking, the stranger started talking again, apparently on his second phone call.

"Sandy. I'm gonna be home late. There's been a crash, some guy -- no, no I'm fine, it's not me, I just found some guy - he's, he's definitely dead. Wiped out. Covered in blood. They're sending someone to collect him, I just have to wait--"

The figure moved around to the back of the car, and Sannes retreated a step just to be safe. "No, it's too late. He's cut up. Staring. Looks like it happened straight away. Just- just talk to me."

The stranger sounded shaken, and Sannes didn't need to hang around listening to him being consoled by his wife or whoever. He crept back out of the forest, wincing at every loud twig snapping and every crunch of September leaves. Within minutes he was back at his car, dog leash, camera and sniper rifle all packed in the back.

He pulled out a beaten up little phone and dialled his boss, keeping his eyes on the view outside the car. As expected, the answer was almost immediate. Sannes could practically picture him, reacting with a start at the sound of the phone, jabbing the answer button, all nervous energy and tension.

"You done it?" came the poor excuse for a greeting. “I've been on fuckin' tenterhooks here waiting to hear somethin'. I mean how late does this sad guy work?"

Kenny never was a patient man, and had only gotten worse lately.

“I took out the car," Sannes answered. "But a passerby stopped to help before I could get to it and confirm the kill." He could tell what Kenny was going to say next before he'd got a word out, so he continued quickly.

"He didn't see me. I listened to his call to the emergency services though, and he seemed certain that the officer is dead. He reported no pulse, severe bleeding, and neck wounds. What do you want me to do?"

Kenny snorted but then went silent. Sannes waited patiently for him to think through whatever thought was going through his head, swivelling his head around to check once again that there was no one around the vicinity of his car.

"The guy was sure?" Kenny said at last.

"He appears to be. When I left he was talking to his wife on the phone, telling her about it. But if the officer was alive and injured, they would have him doing CPR or similar."

"Yeah..." Kenny seemed to be thinking, but when he spoke again there was a relief in his tone, almost jubilation. "Yeah. Damn, it's really over. Just get back here.”

“You’re certain? I’ll take the risk if you want. You know I would hate to leave a task unfinished.”

“Nah, nah,” came the crackly reply. “Sounds like a done deal. No need for anyone to see your face, not with all this attention on us..."

Sannes hung up without warning, and when he left he took a road that avoided the scene.

As far as anyone knew, he was a civilian who hadn’t seen a thing.


End file.
